


Out of the Birdcage

by TheCrystalFalls, violinia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-08-19 12:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 51,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrystalFalls/pseuds/TheCrystalFalls, https://archiveofourown.org/users/violinia/pseuds/violinia
Summary: Brothers Gilbert and Ludwig Beilschmidt are new to London and are doing their best to navigate through a new chapter of their lives. Ludwig, a trainer at a small, local gym, is hoping to branch out into his own business and is determined to be successful. However, a certain happy-go-lucky Italian manages to jump in the mix. Meanwhile, Gilbert meets a beautiful woman and develops a crush on her, despite knowing she's already in a relationship.A "London is Burning" Prequel!





	1. Just a Couple of Weirdos...Actually, Just One Weirdo

“How many times do I need to ask you to  _ stop doing that _ , ” Ludwig hissed to his brother. 

Gilbert was lifting two weights, one in each hand, while jumping around,  running the risk of injuring himself as well as others.

“You’re  so uptight, Luddy!” Gilbert teased, still hopping around. “You’re just jealous of my  _ sick  _ moves!” 

Ludwig rolled his eyes and groaned. “I’m not jealous, I’m asking you to be responsible for once in your life!” he scolded. “You’re a Gym Leader, for Pete’s sake, could  you please set an example?” Ludwig added, pointing to Gilbert’s name tag. 

Gilbert finally stopped jumping around and set the weights down on the rack. “Party pooper , ” he mumbled. Gilbert rolled his neck around, the faint sound of bones cracking was heard and he groaned. “How did you get so lame, anyhow? We came from the same parents.”

“I  actually care  about how others think of me, unlike you,” Ludwig replied. He squatted down to roll up his yoga mat from the class he had led. “Now that you’ve seen me lead a class, do you feel comfortable leading your own eventually?” 

Gilbert raised his arms above his head and stretched. “Yeah, I think I’m good , ” he concluded, putting his hands on his hips. “Where do you wanna eat dinner?” 

“We still have two more hours left!” Ludwig snapped. 

“Yeah, yeah I know but, where do you wanna eat? I hear there’s this kickass restaurant downtown.” Gilbert wasn’t phased in the slightest that his younger brother was already frustrated with him. 

“There’s  _ several  _ places downtown that you think are  _ kickass _ ,” Ludwig sighed. “Are you even taking this job seriously?” 

“Nah, this is just a good place with decent pay , ” Gilbert muttered, waving his hand. 

“This is the  _ third  _ job you’ve have in two months! You need to be responsible!” Ludwig picked up his now rolled up yoga mat and held it under his arm. “Moving to a new country was  _ your  _ idea, we’ve been here for a year and I’m already in my new apartment. What’s up with your ambition?” 

Gilbert thought for a moment, narrowing his eyes. “Ambition? Oh, I think it died after uni , ” he answered, shrugging. He wiped his nose with his finger and started walking away. “When’s the next class, boss?” 

“In fifteen,” Ludwig answered, catching up with his brother. “But you’re needed at the front desk. The two kids who were working it went home.” 

Gilbert threw his head back and groaned so loud that it echoed in the room. “The front desk is  _ death _ , ” he whined. “Why don’t we switch places? I think I can handle the next class.” He spun around and approached his brother to attempt to take his yoga mat. 

Ludwig took a step back and held the yoga mat over his head. Both of the brothers were tall, but Ludwig still was a couple of inches taller than his older brother. There was absolutely no way that Gilbert could get the yoga mat. “No way! You’re running the front desk and that’s final!” Ludwig shouted, walking out of the training room. 

As Ludwig left the room, Gilbert slouched in his stance and groaned. “Lame.” Begrudgingly, he walked towards the front of the gym and took his seat at the swivel chair at the front desk. It wasn’t long until he had already started to scan people in to the gym with their membership cards. After about thirty people had come in, Gilbert pulled out his phone to check the time and was appalled to see that only fifteen minutes had passed. 

He put his head on the desk and groaned. “This is lame,” he said to himself. “If this keeps up, I don’t even know if I want this job anymore.” 

Gilbert jumped at the chime sound of the door opening and watched as a beautiful woman  with long brown hair  stepped into the gym. She was on the phone with someone, and was searching through her duffel bag as she walked past the front desk. “Hey!” Gilbert hollered after her. “You have to swipe in!” 

She stopped in her tracks, but ignored Gilbert’s shouting and continued her phone conversation. “I  _ don’t  _ know! I gave you directions before you left and then told you to use the GPS!” she said, pacing around. “Well what do you want me to do? I’m already late for my. . . you’re on the freeway?? Pull over and put the GPS on!” She then groaned. “Look, figure it out, like you always do. I’ll talk to you later.” Finally, she hung up on the phone and turned back around to Gilbert. “Hi, did you say something to me?” she asked. 

“Yeah, you gotta swipe in.” Gilbert said. 

“Oh.” She unzipped her jacket to reveal a name tag. “I’m a gym leader here. I teach the swim class.” She paused. “You’re Ludwig’s brother, aren’t you? I’ve heard about you. We haven’t met yet. I’m Erzsébet.” 

Gilbert offered his hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m Gilbert. Do you need any help for the class? I really don’t want to be sitting at this desk for two hours , ” he replied. 

Erzsébet laughed. “Sorry, no,” she said, backing away. “I’d love to keep talking but I’m late for my class.” She ran off and opened a door that led to the pool. 

Gilbert slouched in the swivel chair and slowly started to spin around. He continued to spin in the chair for several moments until he felt too dizzy to keep spinning. When he stopped, he was greeted by another gym attendee standing in front of the desk. 

“Excuse me, but I’ve been standing here for five minutes!” the middle aged woman said. 

“Did you say something?” Gilbert asked. 

“No, but--”

“Then I’m sorry, I don’t read minds , ” Gilbert  sharply retorted . He sat up in the chair and leaned his elbows against the desk.

The woman glared at him angrily. “I want to speak to your manager!” 

Gilbert snorted. “This is the manager speaking.” He grinned; he was  _ far  _ from being the manager, but given that he was bored, he wanted to mess with this bratty 50 year-old for a minute. 

The look on the woman’s face when Gilbert said he was “The Manager” was absolutely perfect. “O-oh...I’m sorry, sir. I-I didn’t know…” she stuttered, reaching into her wallet for her scan card. “Do you mind scanning my card?” 

“Nah, I don’t mind at all, ma’am.” he said, kindly taking her scan card. With one swipe, the scanner beeped and Gilbert handed the card back to the woman. As the woman began to walk away, Gilbert chuckled, “Oh, by the way, I’m  _ not  _ the manager.” 

“What?” she asked, stopping in mid stride. 

“Have a good work out!” 

There were others lined up to scan into the gym, to which Gilbert soon grew tired of scanning stupid little cards for others. When the coast was clear for a brief moment, Gilbert moved the scanner to the top shelf of the desk so that any customers coming in could scan their own card. He grabbed a random piece of paper and wrote on the blank side: “BUSY. SCAN YOURSELF.” Content with himself, Gilbert pulled out his cellphone and l ai d down on the floor so that no one could see him. 

_ I was wrong, this is the best job ever. Literally get paid to do nothing!  _ Gilbert thought as he loaded up a dumb mobile game that he hadn’t played for months. Minutes turned into an hour as Gilbert continued to play the game on his phone and counted how many scan beeps he heard as the minutes passed by. 

Suddenly, someone kicked his legs. Hard. Gilbert was startled and quickly sat up, banging his head on the desk. “ _ Scheiße!! _ ” he shouted. Expecting it to be his brother, Gilbert was surprised to see Erzsébet standing over him. 

“Sorry to bother you, but I need your help with something,” Erzsébet said with a cheery smile. 

Gilbert stood up and dusted himself off. “Okay,” he replied, slightly perturbed that she interrupted his great plan. “Uh...what…?”

“My next class has officially  grown  to the point where we are required to have  _ two _ leaders instead of one. I know this is last minute, but do you think you could do it?” Erzsébet explained. 

“I would, but I have to run the front desk.” 

Erzsébet nodded. “Seems like you’ve solved the issue already,” she added, looking over at the sign. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” 

“I don’t have a bathing suit , ” Gilbert added, crossing his arms. 

Erzsébet put her hands on her hips. “You got underwear on?” 

“That’s a personal question,” Gilbert paused. “But yes.” 

“Then you have a bathing suit.” 

“Okay but it has a lot of holes in it , ” Gilbert lied. He  _ really  _ didn’t want to teach a  _ swim  _ class, of all things. 

“Look, I need someone to help me lead the class. I can’t ask the other leaders because they’re all occupied. You’re the only one I’ve got, Gilbo , ” Erzsébet said, walking backwards and shrugging before turning back around. 

“Gil _ bert _ , but okay , ” he mumbled under his breath as he followed her. Erzsébet opened the door leading to the pool and held the door behind her for Gilbert to step in. The pool room welcomed Gilbert by smacking his nose immediately with the smell of chlorine. The smell reminded him of the time when his parents forced him and Ludwig to take swim lessons after school, despite them having a perfectly good pond in the back of their house. 

“So what are we doing?” Gilbert asked, slipping his shoes off. 

“We’ll be covering the front crawl today. It’s our second class, so we’re still on the basics,” Erzsébet  explained in an undertone . She pulled down her shorts. “We covered treading the water last week, so we’ll most likely review that.” 

Gilbert snorted. “Good thing I’m already a master at those…” His voice trailed off as he got distracted by watching Erzsébet take off her shirt, revealing her bathing suit. When she tossed her shirt aside, Gilbert scrambled to take his shirt off as well. He turned away from her, trying to push his mildly dirty thoughts out of his mind. 

“I suppose I should have asked this sooner, but you  _ are  _ a good swimmer, yes?” Erzsébet asked. 

Gilbert had somehow managed to get tangled up in his shirt and was trying to keep his balance. “I’m the best swimmer around!” he gloated. He was a mediocre swimmer  _ at best _ . 

“Are you okay over there?” Erzsébet asked, referring to Gilbert’s struggle to getting his shirt off. She did her best not to laugh. “Here ,  let me he--” 

“I got it!” Gilbert hollered. Finally, the shirt came flying off but Gilbert had stumbled too far and was falling into the pool. Erzsébet reached out to try to grab his arm in hopes of saving him, but it was already too late. For a brief second, he was stunned that he had done something so  _ stupid  _ in front of a  _ hot  _ girl. But the need to reach the surface of the water and catch his breath proved to be more urgent. 

Gilbert quickly swam over to the ladder on the opposite side and clung to it. He then turned around to give Erzsébet a grin. “See, you thought I did that by accident.” It was best to play it off that he knew what he was doing the whole time.

Erzsébet narrowed her eyes. “You  _ did  _ do that by accident , ” she replied, crossing her arms. 

“No, see, I did that on purpose. To keep you on your toes!” 

Skeptical, Erzsébet simply shook her head and turned away. Gilbert took it upon himself to finally climb out of the pool. His shorts were completely drenched, and he reached into his pockets. He sighed with relief when he remembered that he had left his wallet in the locker room with Ludwig’s duffel bag and that he had set his phone aside once he stepped into the pool room.

Walking around the pool, the door opened and class attendees started to enter the room. They were mostly women in their mid-40s or 50s, gossiping about whatever Karen did by the watercooler at work. A few men trickled in, all in the same age group, and awkwardly stood by the seats. 

Erzsébet clapped her hands together, the sound echoing in the room. It took a second for the echoes of the several conversations to subside. “Okay everyone, welcome back to swim class 101! How are we all feeling today?” she began. The class mumbled in a lackluster response. Erzsébet nodded as she took a few steps closer to Gilbert. “Good, good. Before we get started, I would like to introduce to you my new assiss--”

“New swim teacher! Hi, I’m Gilbert Beilschmidt and today we’re going to learn the breast str--!” Before Gilbert could finish his interruption, Erzsébet shoved him back into the pool. When Gilbert resurfaced and coughed on the water he had accidentally swallowed, Erzsébet smiled. 

“As I was saying, this is my lovely new _ assistant _ , Gilbo,” she con tinued . 

“Gil _ bert _ ! My name is Gil _ bert _ !”

“Many of you should already be aware of the fact that the goal of this class is to bring a relaxed environment while strengthening your swimming skills,” Erzsébet continued, ignoring Gilbert’s complaints. “Because our class attendance has grown, I asked Gilbert to join us today and he was  _ so  _ gracious enough to accept, despite his  _ very  _ busy schedule.” 

Gilbert groaned and sunk a bit further into the water, blowing bubbles. They had met only a few moments ago, but Gilbert was surprised to see that Erzsébet knew exactly how to combat his obnoxious behavior.  _ How disappointing.  _

“Without further ado, let’s get in the water, shall we?” Erzsébet concluded. With two steps forward, she dropped herself into the water. She then pulled her hair back into a ponytail. 

“Did you  really  have to push me in?” Gilbert hissed. “ In front of all those grandmas and grandpas? ” 

“What’s the matter? You were already wet.” Erzsébet splashed him. “Besides, did you  _ have  _ to interrupt me?” She turned her attention back to her class. “Good, I see everyone remembers how to tread water. Today, we’re going to talk about the front crawl. Gilbo, would you demonstrate for us?” 

Gilbert instantly refused, crossing his arms in protest. But after a few seconds of the class staring at him expectedly, he relented and grumbled under his breath as he began to swim across the pool. 

 

Ludwig stood before the front desk in frustration. In his brother’s handwriting, he read the sign that sat beside the card scanner.  _ Of course he’d find a way around doing work _ ,  Ludwig thought, making his way around the desk. Knowing his brother was most likely  _ under  _ the desk  _ hiding  _ like a child, Ludwig was surprised to see that Gilbert wasn’t there. 

“Gilbert, where the hell are you?” Ludwig sighed. 

His thought process was stopped when he heard the door from the pool open and the loud squelching sound of wet socks on the bare floor. He turned to see Gilbert approaching him with a serious face. 

“You got a towel?” Gilbert asked in a serious tone. 

“Why are you soaking wet?” Ludwig asked. 

“Oh, didn’t you know? It rains  _ inside _ sometimes.” 

Ludwig groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He wasn’t one for sarcasm. “Gilbert, you were supposed to be running the front desk! What if there were inquiries about the gym?” 

“They can easily look it up online.” Gilbert shrugged it off. “Seriously, do you have a towel?” 

“What were you doing?” 

“Erzsébet needed another gym leader for her class so I  _ happily _ stepped in. Because I’m that  awesome !” Gilbert put his shirt and shoes on the desk. “I’m going to ask you one more time: Do. You. Have. A. Towel.” 

Ludwig reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a spare towel. “You don’t even  _ like  _ swimming.” 

“I know, I know, but I didn’t wanna sit at the front desk for an hour.” Gilbert gladly snatched the towl from his brother’s hands and began to dry himself down. As he did so, Erzsébet came around with a couple of forms at hand. 

She placed the forms next to Gilbert’s shoes. “So, just for reference, you’re going to need to fill these out . ” 

“What for?” Gilbert asked. “This place already has my information because I work here.” 

“They make you fill it out again when you teach a class,” Erzsébet  explained . “That class is every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Same time. That works for you, right?” 

“Wait, is this a done deal?!” 

“Well yeah! We don’t have any other gym leaders to fill the spot, so it has to be you!” Erzsébet smirked. “And don’t worry , as long as your technique is one step ahead from the students, you’ll be a great assistant.” She glanced over at Ludwig and waved before walking away. 

Gilbert groaned as he put the towel aside and grabbed his shirt to pull over his head. Ludwig, still confused, took the forms and looked through them. “Be honest with me, Gil,” he murmured. “Did you agree to this because Erzsébet is pretty?” 

“No, why would I do that?” Gilbert lied. Ludwig knew his brother was a terrible liar and could see the lie all over Gilbert’s goofy grin. 

“If you think you’re going to hook up with her, I’ll have you know she has a boyfriend , ” Ludwig added, setting the forms aside. 

“Really? Dammit…” Gilbert leaned down to take his soaking wet socks off of his feet. “Well, I’ll have to fix that.” 

“They’ve been dating for  three years. I really don’t think you have a chance.” 

“ Three  years and they haven’t gotten engaged? Hah, there’s a weakness in their relationship then ! ” Gilbert threw his socks at his brother and slipped his shoes on. 

“It’s their choice, Gilbert! Don’t go around trying to break up people’s relationships for  _ your  _ benefit!” 

“Where are we going for dinner?” Gilbert changed the subject as he started to walk out of the door. “I’m famished.” 

“Did you hear me, Gilbert?!” Ludwig called after him, following his brother. “You can’t go around trying to break up people’s relationships for your benefit!” 

“Yeah,” Gilbert continued. He had his back against the door and pushed it open with his rear end. “I’m feeling some Italian food too.” 


	2. A Night at Bellisima's

Dinner time was always the busiest time at  **_Bellisima_ ** , and tonight was extra special for Feliciano for he had to pick up his brother’s slack. Lovino was going through a breakup with his girlfriend, Emma, and he wasn’t dealing with it in a particularly healthy manner. Th en again,  Lovino  _ never  _ dealt with his emotions in a healthy manner. 

One minute, Lovino was fine. He’d be charming as ever to the customers, quick in his steps and delivered the food on time. The next minute he would trip over something and blame his brother for it. The last time Feliciano ran into his brother during his shift, Lovino was crying, but was cutting an onion to try to cover it up. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Feliciano asked his brother. He placed the dirty dishes in the sink and started to wash them a bit. He had some spare time before the next order was ready. 

“Talk about what? Why do you keep asking me if I have something to talk about? I don’t. There’s nothing to talk about, Feli. Go away!” Lovino hissed. 

“You seem upset, is all , ” Feliciano  responded gently , looking over his shoulder. 

“I’m cutting an onion, stupid head!” 

“Okay, okay.” 

The best thing for Feliciano to do was to leave his brother alone and let him sulk. Feliciano left the dirty dishes to soak in the kitchen and grabbed the order for table five. Carefully, he backed out of the kitchen and turned around to walk forward. Weaving in and out from the different tables, Feli reached the table and handed the food to its rightful owners. 

“Okay, we have one eggplant parmigiana, and one seafood alfredo,” Feliciano announced as he set the plates down. “Can I get you anything else?” 

The man and the woman shook their heads as they picked around their food. 

“Enjoy!  _ Buon appetito! _ ” 

Feliciano hurried back to the kitchen to get the next order. Instead, he bumped into his brother, who was now no longer  even trying to  hid e his tears. Lovino fell into Feli’s arms, bawling. 

“ Wh- What did I do wrong?” Lovino cried. 

“Goodness, goodness; that onion really did a number on you, didn’t it?” Feliciano joked around. He pushed his brother back a little and wiped his tears away with his thumb. “Now, now, it’s okay to be sad sometimes. But we have to have, what do the English call it? Stiff upper lip? It’s all going to be okay.”  

“No , it’s not.” 

“Yes it will,” Feliciano assured him, patting his back. “Why don’t you run to the bathroom, wash off your face and get back out there! You’ll be fine!” 

Lovino reluctantly nodded and wandered off to the bathroom that was just past the main dining room. Feliciano sighed with relief as he gathered four plates and balanced three of them on his arm and carried the other one with his free hand. Back out in the dining room, he gave the plates to table 10, politely told them to enjoy their meal and scanned the restaurant for his brother. 

Lovino was nowhere to be found. 

Mildly annoyed, Feliciano went over to the one-person bathroom and knocked on the door. “Lovino? It’s me ! ” he hollered. There was a small click sound of the doorknob being unlocked and Feliciano stepped in. When he closed the door, he heard a small whimper to his left. Lovino was sitting on the floor, trying muffle his crying. Feliciano frowned; he had never seen his brother  _ this  _ upset over a break up. Then again, Lovino was usually the one who broke it off, not the other way round. 

“Come on, Lovi,” Feli said. He put his arms underneath Lovino’s arms and helped him up to his feet. “We have a full house; I could really use your help.” 

“I feel dead inside.” 

“We all do,” Feliciano said dryly as he turned on the cold water in the sink. “But that doesn’t stop us from doing great things,  doesn’t it ? Let’s wash  y our face, okay?” 

Lovino sighed and did as his brother asked.  _ Finally, _ Feliciano thought to himself as he watched his brother splash water against his face three times. He reached over to the paper towel dispenser and handed Lovino some towels. 

“There you go, good as new!” Feliciano cheered. “Now let’s go out and make our customers happy!” 

Lovino mumbled under his breath as he marched out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen to finally pick up the orders he needed to give. Feliciano stepped out of the bathroom as well, closing the door behind him. He saw that two new customers had taken a seat in a corner and he hurried to grab some menus to give to them. 

“ _ Buonasera e benvenuto a Bellisima _ ,” Feliciano greeted. He gently placed the menus in front of the two customers. “My name is Feliciano; feel free to call me Feli. I know it’s a mouthful.” He paused for a second, watching the two men open their menus and starting to look through them. “I will be your server for the night, so if you have any questions or anything, flag me down. Can I get you started with any drinks or appetizers?” 

The shorter, paler man dropped his menu down, folded his hands together and looked up. “You got breadsticks?” he asked. 

“Uh, well, we have bread baskets. Would you like me to bring you one with some olive oil and herbs?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good. Sound good to you, Luddy?” he asked the other person sitting with him. 

“How many times have I asked you not to call me that?” the other man, who was too busy looking through the menu, replied. “A bread basket sounds fine. Could I get a glass of water?” 

“Of course,” Feli said, scribbling it down on his notepad. He turned to the first customer who spoke. “And for you, sir?” 

He drummed his fingers on the table as he thought. “Eh, I’ll just have water as well.” 

Feliciano nodded. “Would you be okay if I brought out a pitcher of water for the both of you? It’s no extra charge.” 

“Yeeeah.” 

“Alright, so a pitcher of water and a bread basket. Is that all for now?” 

“Yep!” 

Feliciano walked away to put the order in the kitchen and found his grandfather being nosy around the cooks, making sure they were all following his recipes accurately. “ _ Ciao _ ,  _ nonno! _ ” Feliciano greeted, hoping to distract his grandfather for a brief moment. 

His grandfather straightened himself up and smiled. “Feli! How are things going on down here?” he asked. He patted his grandson’s back fondly. 

“Things are good,  _ nonno _ ,” Feliciano answered, posting the order notice onto the rack. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” His grandfather just had back surgery a couple of weeks ago, and he was still supposed to be recovering. But being the owner of the restaurant, he simply couldn’t stay away. 

“Oh come on, Feli, don’t start. I just came down to check on things. I was about to lose my damn mind staying in the house for too long , ” he  gr umbled. “How’s Lovi doing?” 

Feliciano only let out a heavy sigh as his reply. 

“Alright, I’ll go talk to him,” He patted Feli’s shoulder again. “Thank you for  holding  down the fort.” 

“Yeah,” Feliciano sighed as his grandfather walked away , before mumbling under his breath,  “Even though I’m terrible at it.” 

 

“They seem very understaffed,” Ludwig commented, flipping another page of the menu. “Seems like it will be a long wait.” 

Gilbert leaned on his right arm and drummed his fingers on the table. “What’s the rush? We finished our shift, we don’t have any other plans; we have plenty of time to relax!” He grinned. “Things don’t  _ always  _ have to be on some sort of schedule, Luddy! You’re so uptight.” 

Ludwig looked up from his menu and glared at his brother. “Don’t act like you don’t have your moments. You can be  _ very  _ anal about  certain  things.” 

“Yeah, but not much as you.” Gilbert leaned back and wiped his nose with his finger. 

“Are you sure about that?” Ludwig sighed, closing his menu. “Remember  all those times  you had a school project due and you basically didn’t let your partner do anything because it  _ had  _ to be done  _ your  _ way ? ” 

“Yeah, well--” 

“Or how about the time  M om reorganized your dresser during your first year at uni? You  wouldn’t speak to her for two days .” 

“Okay, but--” 

“How about when--”

“Enough!” Gilbert hissed. “I get it, I have my moments. But I’m not uptight and prudish like you Luddy. I’m cool, fun and the best to be around.” 

“That’s debatable.” 

Feliciano arrived back to the table with a giant pitcher of water and a bread basket in his hands. Gently, he placed the pitcher in the center of the table and set the basket on the edge of the table. “Sorry,” he said as he reached across the table for one of the small plates and poured some olive oil and herbs onto it. “Okay, are  you  perhaps ready to order? I forgot to mention that our soup of the day is  _ pasta e fagioli _ . My apologies.” 

Gilbert opened his menu back up and pointed to something at random. “I’ll have whatever this is.” 

Feliciano leaned over to see what he was referring to. “Roasted Garlic and Pepper Fettuccine? Good choice . ” He took a moment to write the order down. “And for you, s--” Feliciano froze for a moment when he and Ludwig happened to make eye contact for a split second. In an instant, he was smiling uncontrollably. “--ir?” 

Ludwig didn’t think anything of the strange encounter. “I think I’ll just have the chicken parmigiana.” 

“Ugh, so basic , ” Gilbert groaned. 

“It’s a customer favorite,” Feliciano said, still smiling. He leaned over to pick up the two menus, without looking away from Ludwig. “You made a really good choice. I’ll be back when your orders are ready.” 

When Feliciano walked away, Gilbert snorted. “Somebody likes you , ” he  teased.

Ludwig, still un fazed from Feliciano’s budding flirtation, carefully poured some water into a glass. “What are you talking about?” 

“That _ power bottom _ of a waiter,” Gilbert clarified. He slid his glass towards his brother, expecting him to pour some water as well. “His brain literally stopped working for a second there when you two made eye contact.” 

“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” Ludwig replied, ignoring the glass. “He’s over worked, so he had to take a second to think.” 

“At the same time when you two happen to look at each other? Come on, Luddy! He  _ likes  _ you.” 

Ludwig continued to shrug it off. “Well, he can like me all he wants. It’s not like we’re  _ suddenly  _ going to become friends.” 

“Eh, you never know.” Gilbert poured himself a glass and slurped the water as obnoxiously as he could. 

“I’m not interested,” Ludwig added. He had pulled out his cellphone and was checking his messages. The concept of relationships honestly never seemed enticing to him.

“Sure you aren’t.” Gilbert poured himself some more water. “So, if I take that power bottom out, you won’t be bothered?” 

“Why do you think he’s a power bottom? I mean, what does that even mean?” Ludwig questioned. 

“What? You never experimented at uni?” 

Ludwig rolled his eyes; he was annoyed with this pointless argument. “ _ No _ . I focused on my studies.” 

“That’s a shame,” Gilbert laughed, not bothering to keep his voice down as he said, “That waiter could give you one hell of a time.” He grabbed a piece of bread and dipped it into the olive oil cocktail. 

Ludwig ran his hands over his face and sighed. “Why do I spend so much time with the most ridiculous human being I’ve ever met?” 

Gilbert took a bite into the bread and chewed noisily, just to further annoy his younger brother. “Because I’m family!” He broke off a piece of the bread and tossed it at Ludwig. It bounced off of his face and landed on the table. Gilbert laughed while Ludwig groaned and wished he could be elsewhere. 

 

Butterflies were swarming in Feliciano’s stomach as he brought back the order to the kitchen. However related the taller, blond man was to the  white-haired one , Feliciano hoped to God that he was available. 

“What are  _ you  _ doing?!!” Lovino shouted. He pushed his brother aside and started wiping up the mess Feliciano had made. He seemed to be in a slightly better mood after  _ Nonno _ had spoke with him. “Are you daydreaming again? You can’t do that, especially when you’re pouring,  _ idiota _ !” 

“S-sorry,” Feliciano apologized. He gathered himself back from his trance and wiped some of the wine into his black pants. “I wasn’t paying attention. It’s so crazy and I’m so tired and…”

As Feliciano listed off phony excuses, Lovino paused in his clean up and stared at his brother. “Who is it this time?” he asked, knowing that Feliciano had developed a crush within seconds. 

Feliciano grinned uncontrollably. “Table 20. The  b lond  one .” 

Lovino forcefully gave Feliciano the rag he was cleaning with. “Clean the rest of it up,” he mumbled, walking out of the kitchen to be nosy. Feliciano squatted down to clean up the floor, humming to himself. Within seconds, Lovino returned. “Well, he’s certainly  _ your  _ type.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Feliciano replied, whining. 

“When it comes to  crushes  you have a thing for the tall, beefy guys. You know, someone who can probably  _ rip  _ you to shreds.” 

“True,” Feliciano looked away. “But don’t you think he’s nice to look at though?” 

“No,” Lovino picked up a dish. “I don’t like all of that muscle. You can be fit, but don’t look like you bench press every day. That’s just weird.” 

“You’re so picky,” Feliciano t utted . 

“And you’re not?” Lovino hissed as he walked past with two dishes in his hands. “You can fantasize and get it out of your system or whatever you want at night, but right now, you have to work.  _ Capisce? _ ” 

Feliciano nodded and sighed. “ _ Capisco _ .” He knew and completely understood that Lovino was right. Lovino  was well aware  that Feliciano had a promiscuous side of him, and though he was trying to tone it down, Feliciano couldn’t help but fantasize all the time. It had been a couple of years since he had a proper relationship, and a couple of weeks since a hookup. 

It didn’t hurt to be hopeful of  _ something _ . 

As Feliciano went around the restaurant, tending to the other customers, he came up with a plan. A plan to at least make “The Blond” think of him constantly when he left the restaurant. The plan, of course, was to get as much information as he could from a simple discussion, and offer something at the restaurant. This trick worked best for business people; Feliciano lost count however many times he told men and women that  **_Bellisima_ ** offered discounts for business meetings. Not  _ everyone  _ fell for it, but some did, to which Feliciano later managed to get at least one date with the person he was flirting with. 

It wasn’t the best plan, but Feliciano wasn’t always the best at sneaky plans. 

The time came for the orders to be taken to “The Blond” and whoever the other person he was with. Feliciano placed the two dishes on top of the  tray  and made his way to the table. “We have one Roasted Garlic and Pepper Fettuccine,” Feliciano said. He handed the strange looking man his meal. “Aaand one Chicken Parmigiana,” He glanced at “The Blond” and gave his signature grin. “Are you two here on a business meeting?” 

“No,” Gilbert answered. He made sure his plate was just in the center of where he was sitting. “Just here for dinner.” 

“Oh okay!” Feliciano grabbed the empty bread basket. “I guess it’s been a long day, huh?” 

Ludwig glanced up and gave Feliciano a confused look. “Yes, it has. Speaking of busy, don’t you have other tables to  at tend to?” He appeared to be annoyed that Feliciano hadn’t left yet. 

Feliciano frowned.  _ Dammit, is he  _ actually  _ straight? _ He thought to himself.  _ He doesn’t  _ seem  _ like it, though.  _ “The night is winding down,” Feliciano excused. “Sorry, as an extravert, I feel like I have to talk to somebody at some point! It’s been running around nonstop since 6:00!” He paused. “Would you guys like some more bread?” 

“N--” Ludwig began. 

“Yes!” Gilbert replied. 

“Godammit, Gilbert.” 

Feliciano hurried back to the kitchen to grab another bread basket. He had to rethink his strategy a bit; “The Blond” didn’t seem to be picking up on  _ any  _ of Feli’s cues. Perhaps Feliciano had made the wrong assumption, as disappointing as that would be. 

With another bread basket in hand, Feliciano walked back to table 20. “Here’s your bread basket,” he  said quietly . He was about to walk away when Gilbert spoke again. 

“Hey, Feli, is it?” he called after. 

Feliciano stopped in mid-stride to turn back around. “Yep!” 

“Do you work out?” Gilbert asked. 

“No...not like at a gym or anything,” Feliciano answered. “But I went to school for dancing and ballet.” 

“Oh, so you’re like,  _ flexible _ , right?” 

“Gilbert, I swear to God,” Ludwig groaned. 

Feli giggled. “Kinda, I guess. I haven’t practiced much since I graduated, though.” 

“Well, Ludwig and I work at the gym right around the corner,” Gilbert continued. “You should come over so metime . Ludwig here leads the yoga and weight lifting classes.” 

“ _ Gilbert _ .” 

“Oh I love yoga! What time are your classes, Lud...wig? Did I say that correctly?” Feliciano asked. 

Ludwig closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath; he was  just about done  with his brother and his unnecessary antics. “Yes, you did,” he began. “Our classes are Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays for yoga. Weight lifting is Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. You can get more information at the front desk when you walk in for specific times.” 

“They’re at 3:00, 5:00 and 6:00, in case you were wondering.” Gilbert blurted. 

“So cool!” Feliciano cheered. “I’ll be sure to come over and check it out then! I love yoga a lot because of the fun positions and stuff.” 

Gilbert snorted. “Hear that, Luddy?  _ Fun. _ ” He grabbed his napkin off of his lap to wipe his mouth. 

Ludwig glared at his brother. “We would love to have you join us,” he said, trying his best to be cordial. “When you enter the gym, you will have to register for a membership and then sign up for the class. Classes are free with a membership, so I recommend taking that deal instead of paying for the class.” 

“That sounds great!” Feliciano glanced across the restaurant to see someone angrily waving him over. “U-uh, would I need a yoga mat?” 

“Nah, Luddy always has extra!” Gilbert chimed in again. 

“ _ Gilbert _ ! Stop talking!” 

“Got it.” 

“I’ll get one eventually,” Feliciano began to back away. “I’m sorry, but I have to attend to that table over there. I’ll be right back with some more water; enjoy your meal!” 

 

With Feliciano gone, Ludwig took it upon himself to give a hard kick to his brother’s shin. “Do you  _ ever  _ shut up?” he said between his teeth. 

“You’ve known me your whole life; you know I don’t!” Gilbert replied, grimacing through the pain. “ _ Aua!  _ Why did you kick me??” 

“Because you’re being  _ ridiculous _ !” Ludwig then looked down and began cutting the chicken breast that laid atop the mountain of pasta. He was  careful to make sure all of the pieces were cut evenly and equally. 

“I’m just trying to get you some action; that waiter is into you and you need to loosen up.” 

“Loosen up? I don’t need to loosen up.” Ludwig took a taste of his meal and took a minute to savor it. At least in spite of the chaos, the food was absolutely delicious. “I don’t need your help or whatever it is you think you’re doing.” 

“Haven’t you ever like... _ you know _ ?” Gilbert asked. 

“ _ No _ ,” Ludwig took another bite and scraped off some of the sauce on the edge of the plate so it wouldn’t drip onto the table. “That kind of stuff is a distraction, not to mention particularly gross.” 

“Gross, huh? Then why did Mom find magazines under your bed when you were--” 

Ludwig kicked Gilbert’s shin once again. “Eat your meal,  _ arschloch _ .” 

The two brothers ate their meal in silence from then on, both surprised at how delicious the food was. Ludwig finished his dish first and began calculating the his portion of the check. As he pulled out his wallet, he overheard the overworked waiter come back. 

“Sorry it took me so long to bring back the water,” Feliciano said from afar. As he was about to set the new pitcher down on the table, he slipped and all of the water spilled on Ludwig. The German immediately stood up and groaned rather loudly. The whole restaurant, which was once loud with endless chatter, quickly fell silent. All eyes were on Ludwig as he attempted to brush off the water that was dripping off of his clothes. 

“I am  _ so _ , so, so sorry!!” Feliciano apologized. He grabbed some spare cloth napkins from the empty table over and pressed them against Ludwig’s shirt (mainly speaking, against his chest). “I didn’t mean to! I hope this doesn’t ruin your shirt or...or…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Ludwig assured. He gently took the napkins from the waiter and dabbed them on his pants. “It’s just water.” 

“I know, I know, but...now you’re all wet and you’ll be so uncomfortable until you get home , ” Feliciano stammered. “Here, I have some spare clothes in my room. Our house is just across the street, so I won’t be long!” 

“That’s really unnecessary!” Ludwig called after him. But it was already too late, Feliciano had already run back to the kitchen and out to the ally way that led to his family’s home. Ludwig groaned as he sat back down and set the napkins aside. 

Gilbert seemed to be unphased by the situation as he was still eating his meal when his brother sat back down. Frustrated, Ludwig sighed. 

“The least you could do is act concerned or annoyed for me,” he said. 

Gilbert looked up from his plate. “ _ Was _ ?” 

“Forget it,” Ludwig leaned on the table grouchily. “What the hell is up with that waiter?” 

“He’s going to be one hell of a time, I’m telling you,” Gilbert said. He tossed his napkin from his lap onto his empty plate and leaned back with a grin. “One hell of a time.” 

 

When it was time to close up the restaurant, Feliciano was mildly pleased with himself. “The Blond” left with a spare t-shirt Feliciano had found from his grandfather’s room (it was a shirt from his younger days) and promised to bring the shirt back tomorrow.  _ At least I will get to see him again one more time _ , Feliciano thought to himself, putting the final clean dish into the drying rack. He smiled and hummed to himself as he finished locking up the restaurant before heading home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So sorry for the two-week wait, but here's chapter 2! We may go back to posting on a weekly basis come next week. Posting every other week kinda feels odd, not going to lie. 
> 
> Anyways, here's the infamous scene where Feli PURPOSEFULLY spills water all over Ludwig. What are we going to do with him? The story is just beginning, so don't you worry; we'll get to know more about all of them. I have a feeling this story will be a little longer than London is Burning. Not by much, but by a couple of chapters. We'll see. Writing without a plan is F U N!!! 
> 
> As always, if you see an errors, have critiques, or just feel like saying hi, feel free to leave a comment below!! We'll be reading the comments below and will do our best to reply!! 
> 
> See you soon! 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia) and Ellie (TheCrystalFalls)


	3. Organized Chaos

Gilbert found himself laying down on the couch, face first when he woke up. The smell of coffee wafted through the living room and the sound of clattering pans as his roommate went searching for the waffle maker. Gilbert groaned as he stuffed his face back into the couch cushion, trying his best to ignore the noise. The auditory chaos lasted for several minutes until the waffles were made. There was a moment of silence until Gilbert noticed soft footsteps coming towards him. 

“Gilbert,”  h is roommate said, softly. 

Gilbert rolled over to face up at the ceiling. “ _ Morgen,  _ Francis. Are there enough waffles for me?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. 

Francis took a deep breath to gather his patience. Dark circles were under his eyes as he had been having many sleepless nights trying to finish his dissertation. He was no longer the charming, drama stirring man when Gilbert had first met him. No, he had changed into a sleep deprived, irritable doctoral student within a week. 

“Gilbert,” Francis repeated, trying to keep his voice low. “Did you eat all of my nutella?” 

“Why would I eat your nutella?” Gilbert asked.  _ Of course  _ Gilbert had eaten all of the nutella, but he wasn’t in the mood for Francis to be throwing a fit over something stupid like  _ nutella _ . 

“Because you eat all of my food, regardless of how many times I ask you  _ not  _ to , ” Francis replied. 

“Okay, so I had some of it the other d ay . But I didn’t eat all of it , ” Gilbert lied. He stood up to make his way to the bathroom when Francis took a hold of his arm and squeezed it with all of his might. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he hissed. His eyes were fiery  with barely repressed  rage. 

“I gotta take a piss . ” Gilbert  yanked  his arm away. 

“No, you’re going to get me nutella,” Francis grabbed the hood o f Gilbert’s sweatshirt. “You ate it all, go get me a replacement.” 

“Get Antonio to do it,” Gilbert said. “Maybe he’s the one who ate it all. It’s not always me, you know!” 

Antonio, having just stepped out of his bedroom and wandered into the living room, caught a portion if the argument. “Wait, have we always had nutella?” he asked, scratching his head. “Can I have some?” 

Francis didn't bother to acknowledge Antonio's comment. “No, it was  _ you _ .” Francis tugged on the hood harder, nearly causing Gilbert to fall backwards. “All I wanted this morning was some waffles with some nutella after an all nighter. And what do I find? All of the nutella is gone and a sleeping thief on the couch!!” 

“Calm down! It’s just nutella!! I’ll get you some this afternoon.” Gilbert pulled the hood away from Francis’ grip and took several steps back. “You’re crazy when you haven’t slept. Drink some coffee and maybe you’ll feel better.” 

Francis closed his eyes, folded his hands together and put two fingers over his lips. “Get. Me. My. Nutella.” 

“Your waffles are going to get soggy , ” Gilbert commented. 

“Get. Me. My. Nutella.  _ Now _ .” 

Gilbert muttered under his breath as he put his shoes on. “Fine, I’ll get you you r stupid nutella. It’s not a big deal.” He grabbed his keys and his wallet. “You’re lucky there’s a 24-hour store down the street.” He added as he walked out the door. 

It took a total of twenty minutes for Gilbert to return with a small glass jar of the “Holiest of Bread Spreads” that is nutella, and slammed it on the dining room table where Francis sat. “There. Are you happy now?”

Francis, who had put his plate on a plate warmer on the table and sat sipping his coffee, didn’t bother to look up at Gilbert with his response. “ _ Very _ .” He opened the jar of nutella and scooped out a huge glob of the hazelnut spread onto his waffle. 

“Are we done here?” 

Francis didn’t reply as he cut off a piece of his waffle and quietly chewed. He let out a soft hum in satisfaction. Gilbert sighed as he walked away to the bathroom. But the door was locked, which made matters worse. This meant that Antonio was in the shower, and it would at least be another hour until the bathroom was available. Or at least the common bathroom was. 

“Francis, may I use the bathroom that’s in your room?” Gilbert asked. 

“So you can fill it with your stink? No way , ” Francis answered. He cut off another piece of his waffle, shoved it in his mouth and hummed; there was no longer any ounce of anger left in his body. He was at peace with his waffle and his nutella. 

“Come on, Francis,” Gilbert pleaded.  _ Why does he have to be this petty and dramatic?  _ Gilbert asked himself. 

“Let me think,” Francis said, cutting into his waffle again.  Thirty seconds passed and Francis still hadn’t answered. Then a minute. Two. Three. Gilbert stood there, antsy, when  four  minutes had passed and Francis  _ still  _ hadn’t answered. 

Gilbert cleared his throat. “Hello?” 

Francis turned around and smirked. “Oh, you’re still standing there? You know permission is a made up thing, right? I have no authority over you , ” he commented, amused.

“I don’t have time for your stupid psychology lectures. Can I use your bathroom or not?!” Gilbert snapped. 

Francis took his time taking a sip of his coffee. “I mean, I  _ guess. _ ” 

“Is that a yes or no?” 

“I have no author--”

Gilbert ran towards Francis’ bedroom before Francis could finish his sentence and slammed the bathroom door behind him.  _ I should piss on your entire bed, Arschloch _ . Gilbert thought.  _ You and your stupid, entitled self.  _ Once he was finished, he washed his hands and headed out of the room to find Francis cleaning up his mess. Out of the corner of his eye, Francis saw Gilbert sit back down on the couch and smirked, still amused from their argument from earlier. 

“How much longer until your dissertation is done?” Gilbert asked. He hoped it would be soon; this version of Francis was a  _ nightmare _ . When he had moved in, Francis was at least nice and much more subtle with his attitude. Now, he  held nothing back.

“The first rough draft is due this week,” Francis answered, waiting for the water to warm up in the sink. “The second rough draft is due in a month. Then everything has to be approved by my committee in two months. Then by the end of the year, I have to  prepare  my defense.” 

Gilbert grimaced. “And  _ why _ are you putting yourself through this?” 

“Because I actually like learning, despite how stressful it is.” He put one of the clean dishes into the drying rack. “You went to uni, yes?” 

“Yeah,” Gilbert propped his feet up on the coffee table and leaned his head back. “Got a degree in Philosophy. Now I’m living the dream.” 

Francis’ eyebrows  raised . “And that is?” 

“Living in a constant existential crisis , ” Gilbert added, shooting finger guns at Francis. 

Francis stifled a laugh as some of the conversation finally sunk into his sleep deprived mind. “Wait, wait, wait.  _ You _ ? A  _ philosophy _ major??” He snorted, covering up his laugh with his hand. “Good God, I can’t imagine that. What the hell made you major in  _ philosophy _ , of all things?!” 

“It’s an easy major,” Gilbert leaned back and slouched. “As long as you believe in the absurdity that leaves your mouth and defend it confidently, you can say anything you want. It’s an easy A.” That was partially true; philosophy was at times an easy major. It of course had its difficult moments. But at the time, Gilbert had been invested in school a lot, and happily studied books that attempted to explain the meaning of the universe. He used to be a very diligent student. 

Unfortunately, all of that drive fled him when he graduated and struggled to find any job related to his interests. 

“Right,” Francis sighed. He wiped his hands dry with a cloth. “So, who’s your favorite philosopher, then?” 

Gilbert thought for a moment. “Eh, it’s been too long.” 

“Considering how selfish you are, I’m going to guess Nietzsche.” 

“ _ Excuse you _ _ \-- _ , ” 

“You’re also driven by self gain and self strength. That’s Nietzsche’s thing, right?” 

Gilbert crossed his arms grumpily. “I know you’re a psychologist and everything, but I would appreciate it if you’d stop using your telepathic powers on me.” 

“That’s not at all how psychology works,” Francis replied, narrowing his eyes.  

“By the way, I prefer Kant over Nietzsche.” 

Francis smirked. “Sure you do.” He hung the cloth over the oven handle and walked through the living room, making his way to his bedroom. “I’m taking a shower. Don’t do anything stupid like eat my nutella again.” 

Gilbert heard the door slam shut and rolled his eyes. “‘Don’t do anything stupid like eat my nutella again’,” he mocked under his breath as he stood up and swiped the nutella jar. “ _ I  _ paid for it, so technically it’s  _ my  _ nutella now.” He set the cap aside and stuck his whole hand in the jar, just to be disgusting and obnoxious. He then licked the nutella off of his fingers one by one before sticking his hand back in the jar. Gilbert chuckled to himself. “What a sucker.” 

 

Erzsébet woke up to the faint sound of delicate piano scales. Her boyfriend (of three years, mind you), Roderich, woke up exactly at 7:00 to prepare for the day. By 8:00, he was sitting down, eating breakfast. By 9:00, he began his daily practice on the piano, naturally starting with major and minor scales. 

This, however, was the only part of Roderich’s life that was outstandingly organized. 

Erzsébet never considered herself to be an organized person, but when she and Roderich first got together, she realized that Roderich was often too scatterbrained due to constant gigging, practicing and teaching to clean up the messes he made. So she had to become more organized as their relationship grew, despite Roderich’s claims that he was an organized man. 

Roderich liked to say that he was organized in a chaotic way. His music room was cluttered with piano and orchestral scores, making it nearly impossible for someone like Erzsébet to find anything. However, if you were to ask Roderich where his score of Holst’s “The Planets” was, he’d easily walk over to a spot and pull it out from under a huge pile of sheet music. 

At times it was confusing and irritating, but Erzsébet found Roderich’s “chaotic organization” to be a quirk. And sometimes, it was rather charming. 

Erzsébet climbed out of bed and began her morning routine. She, unlike Roderich who needs an hour to get ready, only needed half an hour to brush her teeth, get dressed and brush through her thick, curly hair. By 9:30, she was downstairs in the kitchen, making some toast. There was a pause in Roderich’s practice as she heard soft footsteps behind her. 

“Morning,  _ liebling _ ,” he greeted, softly. “I’m sorry if I woke you; I know you had a late night last night.” 

Erzsébet shrugged. “It’s nice to wake up to your playing,” she replied, smiling. “I wouldn’t want to wake up to anything else.” She pulled the toast out of the toaster oven and put some jam on top. “Don’t mind me, dear, I’m just going to eat some breakfast before I do some reading.” Erzsébet didn’t start work until the late afternoon, so most mornings she was free to do whatever she wished. “I might run some errands today; d’you need anything?” 

Roderich thought for a moment. “Not that I can think of,” he answered. 

“Okay, well let me know before I leave in a few.” 

“Alright,” Roderich gently put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “I’ll try to rattle my brain a bit before I get lost in my practicing.” He then wrapped his arms around her waist and swayed with her. Erzsébet couldn’t help but smile; Roderich was always someone who showed his love through his affection and gestures. He kissed her cheek again before moving away back to his piano. 

It wasn’t long until the small house was filled with music once again, this time with the notes of Frédéric Chopin. Or at least that’s who Erzsébet  _ thought  _ Roderich was playing. She honestly couldn’t tell most of the composers apart, no matter how many times Roderich explained the differences between them. The toughest ones were always Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven; they all just sounded the same to her. 

Having finished her toast and coffee, Erzsébet put on her shoes and jacket before wandering into the music room. For the past twenty minutes, Roderich had been playing the same four bar phrase over and over. He was working on memorizing the piece in its entirety, and it was clear that he was struggling to remember what followed. 

“Roder--” Erzsébet began. 

“ _ Liebling _ , do you mind handing me that score over there? The one for Chopin’s Nocturne in E-flat?” Roderich interrupted, releasing the sustain pedal on the piano. 

Erzsébet looked to the pile of music to her right. Thinking the score was on the top, Erzsébet was confused when she saw a score for Mozart’s Piano Concerto in D minor. “Um,” she mumbled. 

“It’s right there, in front of you.” Roderich claimed. 

“Is it?” Erzsébet replied, moving a couple of scores aside. She heard the loud creak of the piano bench as Roderich got up and came over. Right behind the pile of music where Erzsébet had been looking was where Roderich miraculously found the score for the piece he had been looking for.  _ If you already knew where it was exactly, why didn’t you just get up?  _ Erzsébet thought to herself. 

Roderich sat back down on the piano bench and flipped through the pages of the score frantically. Once he found the page he was looking for, he laughed at himself and said, “Ah, that’s it” while he began to play it. 

“Roderich,” Erzsébet said. 

He stopped for a second and peered over his music to look at her. “Hm?” 

“Do you need anything at the store?” she asked. 

“Um,” He mumbled. He zoned out for a moment, soon playing the phrase from memory with no problem. Erzsébet knew he didn’t mean to completely drift off from the conversation; it was something he normally did. His mind was constantly filled with music and everything else was a mere distraction. “I think I’m out of facial cleanser,” Roderich finally concluded. 

“Is that it?” 

“Y….eah,” Roderich moved his hands away from the keys and rubbed them against his legs. “I think. If not, I’ll call.” 

Erzsébet smirked, making a mental note to call him once she got to the store. “Well, alright,” She walked over to give him a kiss. “I’ll see you later then. Love you.” 

“Love you too.” Without hesitation, Roderich started the piece from the beginning again as Erzsébet left the room. 

 

The apartment was fairly silent, except for the loud crinkling noises of the newspaper Antonio was flipping through. “Could you be any louder?” Gilbert asked. He was hanging upside down from the couch, arms flailed out in front of him. 

Antonio, who was sitting on the floor across from his roommate, glanced up from the newspaper and shrugged. “Sorry, I need to find something suitable to apply for,” he replied. Antonio was the king of juggling part-time jobs. For some reason, he was the kind of guy who couldn’t keep a job for more than a year. Antonio had the worst luck; he was either laid-off or had to quit because of terrible working conditions. “Is bartending hard?” 

“It is if you don’t have a chemistry degree,” Gilbert joked. 

Antonio frowned. “Really? Ugh, I knew I should’ve finished college.” 

Gilbert laughed. Why was Antonio always so gullible? “I’m  _ joking _ . Of course you don’t need a chemistry degree to be a bartender.” He glanced over at the paper. “So, is it a club?” 

“No, it’s a restaurant called  **_Bellisima_ ** . It pays pretty well too.” 

“Oh, hey! That place is nice!” Gilbert rearranged himself so that he could sit up straight. “Luddy and I were there last night for dinner. They seemed pretty short staffed, so I think it’s a fair shot.” 

Antonio’s eyes lit up in hopeful excitement. He grabbed his pen and circled the ad several times. “Great! I’ll edit my resume and give them a call. This sounds promising!” 

As Antonio rose up from the floor, both he and Gilbert were startled by the sound of a defeated wail coming from Francis’ room. “Uh-oh , ” Gilbert groaned. “Hope you’re ready, Toni; Big Baby Francis is going to throw a tantrum in three...two…” 

Gilbert was interrupted by the loud thumping noise as Francis was apparently throwing his library books at the door. Antonio and Gilbert snickered as Francis began shouting in incoherent French in his room. Suddenly, it grew quiet and the door to Francis’ bedroom opened. Slowly but surely, Francis shuffled his way into the living room with his hands clenched. 

“Is everything okay,  _ mi amigo _ ?” Antonio asked, concerned. 

“My computer just died,” Francis whispered. He glared straight to Gilbert as if he had taken the laptop charger and hid it.

“Why do you always think  _ I’m _ the culprit?” Gilbert asked. 

“Because I’ve lived with Antonio for six months before you moved in, and he’s  _ never _ gotten in my way , ” Francis hissed. 

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Okay, but what would I do with your charger?” 

“I don’t know, but I’m sure you’d find a reason.” 

“Francis,” Antonio intercepted, stepping between the two. “Maybe retrace your steps? Perhaps you just misplaced it.” 

“I think I’d know where I put it last.” Francis crossed his arms. 

“Yes, but you haven’t had a peaceful night’s sleep in several days now, and you’re not yourself. Okay? Let me help you. Where did you see it last?” Antonio continued. 

Francis took a deep breath and finally looked away from Gilbert. “It should be in my room,” He paused and looked over to the kitchen table. “Son of a bitch,” he grumbled. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair. “It’s over there.” 

Gilbert grinned. “You should probably check your surroundings before you falsely accuse people.” 

As Francis walked past Gilbert to get to the table, he gave him a smack against the back of his head. “Thankfully, I had just saved my document before it clicked off , ” Francis added, swiping the charger off of the table. “Could someone please make me a cup of coffee as I try to tend to this situation?” Francis added, dramatically. 

“Sure thing,” Antonio obliged. 

The apartment became silent again, and Gilbert sighed with relief. He couldn’t stand another moment of Francis shrieking over trivial shit.  _ I guess that’s what sleep deprivation does to you _ . He stood up to stretch. 

“You want coffee?” Antonio called to Gilbert. 

“Nah,” Gilbert declined. He started walking to his room, which was next to Francis’ room. “I gotta get ready for work. Thanks, though.” 

“No problem.” 

Closing the door behind him, Gilbert leaned against it and groaned.  _ Why did Luddy have to get a one bedroom apartment?  _ He thought to himself as he then took off his clothes, tossed them into the hamper and grabbed his extra set of gym clothes. It wasn’t like his living and working situations were bad, it just wasn’t what he had expected nor hoped for at all. 

By now, Gilbert would have hoped that he was able to be successful in some regard. A big name professor or perhaps a very intelligent scholar who wrote cool books in philosophy. But somehow, the once very studious, knowledge hungry Gilbert vanished once he was out in the real world. It was as if he suddenly didn’t know what to do with himself, or perhaps it was the fact that he quickly realized that a philosophy degree was absolutely useless in the real world. Well, it was useless except for the fact that it seemed to plague Gilbert’s mind by annoying him with what was right and what was wrong. 

So the struggle of being an adult continued as Gilbert tried to cope with the fact that he wasn’t completely happy with his life so far. Perhaps he’d find a way to deal with it better soon. 

Ready to go to work, Gilbert was just about to walk out of the door when Antonio stopped him. “Hey, uh, I hate to ask you this,” Antonio began. He was holding a coffee mug filled dangerously close to the brim with coffee; Gilbert assumed it was for Francis. “Do you mind driving me to  **_Bellisima_ ** ? I gave them a call and they asked me to come down as soon as possible.” 

“Seriously?” Gilbert replied. “So soon?” 

“Yeah; I think you’re very right about them being understaffed. I double checked on Maps, and the restaurant is right around the corner from your gym. I’ll give you money for gas, if it helps.” 

Antonio started to take out his wallet with his free hand, but Gilbert pushed his wrist away and laughed. “It’s not that far away, don’t worry about it.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure. Get that coffee to Francis soon so he doesn’t blow another gasket. I’ll meet you in the car.” 

It took a total of fifteen minutes until Antonio climbed into the car. The two of them glanced at each other as Gilbert put the car in drive, sharing a silent moment of frustration due to the two of them living with a stressed out roommate. 

With little to no traffic issues, they arrived to  **_Bellisima_ ** relatively quickly. Gilbert, being in the particularly nosy mood, followed Antonio inside. A waiter who looked nearly identical to Feliciano but with darker hair stood at the front desk, playing around on the computer. 

Antonio cleared his throat. “Hello,” he began. The waiter looked over towards him, but did not give a warm welcome. “I called not too long ago. I was told to come here as soon as possible for a job interview?” 

“That wasn’t me,” the waiter replied, turning his attention back to the computer. “ _ Parli italiano? _ ” 

“That wasn’t on the requirement list,” Antonio said, confused. “B-but I think I know some Italian. Um... _ buongiorno! Come stai _ ?” He didn’t know it, but Antonio’s Barcelona accent came through as spoke in basic Italian. This resulted a loud snort of amusement from the waiter. 

“ _ Madonna _ , you’re from Barcelona,” He chuckled and straightened himself up. “Yeah, hold on a second.” The waiter walked away, shouting rapid Italian to someone else who apparently was also in the restaurant. 

“Aren’t Spanish and Italian kind of similar?” Gilbert asked, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“Yes,” Antonio answered in a low voice. “I thought I lived here long enough to get rid of the accent.” He paused, embarrassed. “Does it come out when I speak English?” 

Gilbert shook his hand out from side to side. “Eh, kinda.” 

“Dammit.” Antonio sighed. 

The waiter came back from the kitchen and took back his spot in front of the computer. Gilbert and Antonio stood still, waiting for him to say something. After a minute, he looked up and glared at them. 

“ _ What _ ?” he hissed. 

“I’m here for an inter--” Antonio began. 

“My brother’ll be here in a moment. Calm your tits.” He hesitated, his intense scowl softening a little as he not so discreetly checked out Antonio. “I didn’t catch your name.” 

“Oh! Antonio.” 

The waiter nodded and smirked. “Lovino.” 

“What about the wine?” 

Lovino glared at Antonio. “That’s my name,  _ idiota _ .” 

“Your parents named you ‘the wine?’” 

“Yes, they did!” Lovino slammed his hand on the desk. “Did I make fun of  _ your _ name?” 

“How are you supposed to make fun of ‘Antonio’?” Gilbert asked, trying to stir up the small argument for entertainment purposes. “‘Antonio’ is a totally normal name.” 

“Who  _ asked  _ you?!” Lovino hissed. He turned his attention back to Antonio. “You’re lucky I’m not the one interviewing you because I would have just fired your a--”

“Lovino!!” 

Feliciano stood next to the desk, frowning. “I’m so sorry, Antonio. Please excuse my brother; screaming and yelling is his favorite pastime.” 

“WHAT?!” Lovino spat back. 

“Lovi, I think the bathroom needs to be cleaned. Could you do that while I interview Antonio here?” 

Lovino grumbled under his breath as his pushed past his brother and finally walked away from the group. Feliciano sighed with relief and put on his best smile. “I’m really sorry about that, Antonio. My brother is terrible at expressing himself properly.” 

“Oh, no, it’s alright.” Antonio turned to Gilbert. “You should probably get going to work. I’ll call Francis to pick me up once we’re done.” 

Gilbert nodded and was about to walk out of the door until something pulled him back. He looked over his shoulder to see Feliciano grinning at him. “Hey, you’re the guy who was with Ludwig last night, right?” 

Gilbert snorted. “Yeah, his brother. Ludwig said he’ll bring the shirt back to you by tonight…” 

“Oh, there’s no worries with that. I just...tell him I said hi, okay? I don’t think I’ll make it to the gym until the weekend. It’s crazy working as a waiter and temporary manager,” Feliciano added. 

“Don’t worry; I’ll be sure Ludwig knows. Okay?” Gilbert assured with a smirk. 

“Great! Good to see you again!” Feliciano finished before scurrying away to show Antonio a place to sit for the interview, allowing Gilbert to finally leave the restaurant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're back to posting every week! I just couldn't wait to post every other week if I'm honest. Yeah, it gives me and Ellie a bit more time to write and edit, but I think I'm less likely to forget to post if we do it weekly. Also posting this chapter a little bit earlier in the day because why not? 
> 
> Today, we meet Gilbert's roommates and we get to know what Francis was like while he was finishing up that doctoral degree of his lol. We also get to meet Roderich! As a fellow musician, I can confirm that my brain is very scattered, just like Roderich's, because A.) it's always filled with music, B.) I'm extremely disorganized, and C.) I'm stuck in my routine and the musical world so carrying a conversation with anyone is literally so difficult. So I totally get why Roderich is just a ball of chaotic mess, because I too am a chaotic mess. 
> 
> As always, feel free to leave a critique down below! I always do my best to read them and reply! Also, be on the lookout for some specials sometime! The holiday season is about to be in full swing ;) 
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy the rest of your Cyber-Monday (I hope you get some good deals on whatever you like! Be it presents for family and friends or you're having a Treat Yo'self day). 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia) and Ellie (TheCrystalFalls)


	4. Who Would Win: a Weak Musician or an Obnoxious Assistant?

Ludwig knew that Erzsébet Héderváry was exactly Gilbert’s type before Gilbert started working at the gym. He knew that Gilbert would immediately (or somehow) gravitate towards her and make a complete ass of himself around her. And he knew that once Gilbert found out that she was in a long term relationship, he would “joke” about trying to break them up. 

Ludwig just didn’t think it would all happen so soon. 

It was a Tuesday, which meant that it was a day where Ludwig taught weight lifting. Which also meant that Erzsébet brought her very aloof and very weak boyfriend with her so that he could attend the class. It was her hope that Roderich would find something enjoyable about the gym, but Roderich never seemed interested nor did he enjoy the class. Ludwig had recommended Roderich try yoga instead, which also turned out to be a disaster. Roderich had no upper, lower or core strength whatsoever, and complained the whole time. 

There was also the constant worry of Roderich hurting his hands or fingers. 

_ Musicians _ , Ludwig always thought to himself when he’d overhear a complaint from Roderich in the distance. 

It was only moments before the class was about to begin, and Ludwig couldn’t help but listen to Erzsébet’s and Roderich’s minor argument. 

“I don’t see what the big deal is, Erzsébet,” Roderich said as his girlfriend set down their shared duffel bag for the class. “I don’t need muscles for piano performances.” 

“But doesn’t it feel good to get some energy out elsewhere?” Erzsébet replied. She began to tie her curly hair back into a bun. 

“No.” 

“Oh, Roderich,” Erzsébet sighed, turning away for a moment. “Just try. It’s so good for you to get some exercise.” 

“I already know that,” Roderich sat down on a bench. “People are judging me and I don’t like it.” 

“This isn’t a music competition, Roderich! People are into their own personal workout!” 

“No....I’ve heard people make comments about me…” 

“Who? Who’s doing that?! I’ll kick their butt!” 

“I don’t know, but I’m sure they’ve been made.” 

“So have you heard them or not?”

“Not exactly, but I know how people are!” 

Ludwig closed his eyes, trying to tune out the racket the couple was making. Gilbert was nowhere to be found, and Ludwig was beginning to lose his patience.  _ Why can’t things just go the way they’re supposed to? _ He thought, starting his stretches.  _ If everything just went as planned, there would be no problems.  _

He checked his watch, and it was exactly 3:00. Gilbert was still not there, for some odd reason, and Erzsébet and Roderich were still gently arguing. Ludwig clapped his hands together and stood in front of the small class. “Good afternoon, everyone. If you’re new here, welcome. And if you’re returning, welcome back,” Ludwig began. He put his hands behind his back. “My assistant is running  _ unusually  _ late, and for that I apologize. He will be here momentarily.” 

Roderich raised his hand. “Sorry, how long is this class going to be?” 

“An hour, as always,” Ludwig answered. 

“Would it be okay if I left after half an hour?”

“Roderich!” Erzsébet protested. 

“I have a huge performance coming up and there’s this one part of my music that I keep slipping up on. I need to get home to review it ASAP.” 

Ludwig struggled not to roll his eyes. “You may leave whenever you’d like.” He really, truly did not care. 

“You should stay for the full hour.” Erzsébet teasingly bumped into her boyfriend. “You’re overworking yourself. You need a break, babe.” 

Roderich sighed and relented, folding his hands into his lap as he sat on the floor. Ludwig waited a few more seconds to be sure that everyone was ready to continue. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the entrance of his brother. 

“Hey, thanks for waiting for me!” Gilbert boasted. He took off his jacket and threw it on the rack of weights. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “What are we doing again today?” 

Ludwig groaned and ran his hand over his face. “Today we are going to be working on our core strength. It doesn’t exactly have to do with lifting the heavy weights, but if you have no core strength, then you will most certainly struggle.” He walked over to a machine. “We have several different machines for you to try throughout the gym, but today, I would like you to try this one. You must support yourself by holding onto these bars here, and bring your legs up as high as you can.” 

Roderich raised his hand again. “Is there a safer option?” 

“No,” Ludwig replied flatly. “Allow me to demonstrate.” Without hesitation, Ludwig climbed onto the machine and proceeded to go through the exercise to properly show the rest of the class how to do it. After a minute passed, Ludwig hopped off of the machine and sighed. “Now, who would like to go first?” 

No one in the class raised their hands, as they all had concluded that the exercise was far too hard. Eventually, Erzsébet volunteered her beloved boyfriend. Roderich gave a confused look to Erzsébet and back to Ludwig. 

“Sorry, you’re expecting me to do... _ that _ ?” he asked, still looking around the room. “I can’t.” 

“Just give it a try, Roderich,” Erzsébet encouraged. She pushed him upwards to stand up and led him over to the machine. “You’ll never know what you can do if you don’t try.” 

Roderich groaned. “I’ll need some help,” he muttered under his breath to his girlfriend. “Can’t we do this later when I  _ won’t  _ be embarrassed?” 

“You need some help?” 

Gilbert was hanging around the machine with a smug grin. Ludwig groaned and turned away to steer some of the other class members to the other machines. 

“I can help, you know. I’m the assistant, so I’m totally qualified,” Gilbert bragged. 

“I would prefer it if Erzsébet helped…” Roderich mumbled. 

“No, no, but she’s not the assistant.” 

“But I can help him. I work here too,” Erzsébet countered. She put her hands on her hips, ready to be confrontational. 

Gilbert walked around to the other side of the machine and jokingly pushed her aside. “Uh, you might work here, but are you the assistant?” 

“Why does that ma--”

“Nope!  _ I _ am the assistant!” Gilbert patted Roderich’s back so hard that it was more of a slap. Roderich stumbled forward a bit, shocked, and looked to Gilbert with concern. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands because I’m awesome at my job. M’kay?” 

“O-okay…” Roderich replied. “What’s the first step?” 

“Just get on the machine and pull your legs up. You saw the demonstration, didn’t you?” 

Eventually, Ludwig began to tune out the obnoxiously loud argument on the other side of the room. The remaining students took their time taking turns on the machine. Some needed his guidance more than others, and Ludwig was happy to help. 

“Alright everyone, let’s gather back together. I have another exercise to sh--” Ludwig stopped mid sentence as he looked back at the arguing trio he had worked so hard to ignore. For some reason, Roderich was now upside down on the machine, somehow managing to keep his legs up in the air. His face was turning red, however; an indicator that he was about to fall any moment. “I’m sorry, what is going on here?!” 

Gilbert spun around to face his brother with his grin still in place. “Oh, his core strength is  _ really _ bad. So I thought it would help if he hung upside down,” he explained. He looked over his shoulder. “How are you doing, uh, what was your name again?” 

“For the sixth time, his name is Roderich!!” Erzsébet hissed. 

“Erzsébet,” Roderich squeaked. “Help. Me.  _ Please _ .” 

Erzsébet hurried to help Roderich down from the exercise machine, gently pulling his legs down back to the floor. Roderich sighed with relief as he stumbled back against the wall and slid down to the floor, out of breath. 

“What is  _ wrong  _ with you?” Erzsébet crossed her arms against her chest and stood close to Gilbert with fire blazing in her eyes. “He could’ve gotten hurt!!” 

“You didn’t stop me,” Gilbert snorted. He looked away and took two steps back. 

“Because you kept pushing me away!!” Erzsébet spat back. She looked to Ludwig. “I’m sorry, is your brother always like this?”

“Eighty percent of the time, unfortunately.” _ Why couldn’t his brother just behave like a normal person? _ “Gilbert, please apologize to Roderich.” 

“No need,” Roderich interjected. “It’s okay. Really.” He paused for a split second. “Erzsébet, can I got home now? I think I’ve finally remember that passage in my Beethoven concerto.” 

“You’re a musician?” Gilbert asked. He snickered. “No wonder you’re so weak.” 

Erzsébet gave Gilbert a glare. “That’s fine, babe. I think you’ve most certainly had a good workout today.” She clenched her fists and let out an angry sigh. “I’ll meet you out in the car.” 

Roderich quickly rose to his feet and grabbed the duffel bag before leaving the room in a hurry. Meanwhile, Erzsébet and Gilbert were glaring at each other like two animals ready to fight. “You know, I thought your behavior yesterday was just a one night show. But now I’m starting to think that you’re just an arrogant asshole,” Erzsébet commented in a low voice. 

Gilbert couldn’t help but smirk. “I can give you all kinds of shows if you want.” 

“ _ Excuse me _ ?” 

“You heard me.” 

Ludwig pulled the two of them apart and stood between them. “Alright, children,” he grumbled. “That’s enough.  _ Please  _ don’t make me cancel the class because you can’t behave.” 

Erzsébet was the first to relent in her anger and step away from the situation. “Thank you for being the voice of reason, Ludwig,” she said. She let her arms fall to her sides and smiled. “You run a very good class when you exclude this Gilbo here.” 

“Gil _ bert _ . My name is Gil _ bert _ !! Get it right!” Gilbert hissed. 

“I hope you can have calm and peace in your classes once again,” Erzsébet finished before walking away. “See you tomorrow, Gil _ bo _ !” 

When Erzsébet walked away, Ludwig turned to his brother and scowled. “Are you pleased with yourself?!” he asked, crossing his arms. 

Gilbert only grinned and shrugged as an answer. 

“Look, we’re going to move on to another exercise. Will you just  _ behave _ ?” Ludwig requested. 

“I’m always on my best behavior.” Gilbert snickered. 

Ludwig gave him a quick glare before turning his attention back to the class. With a heavy sigh, Ludwig put on his best smile and continued the class to the best of his ability with his obnoxious brother hanging around. 

 

“From where I stand, I consider you to be on our team, Antonio!” Feliciano cheered. He offered his hand to shake and a smile. “Can you work tonight? If not, we can manage until tomorrow.” 

Antonio shook Feliciano’s hand enthusiastically. “Yes! I can work tonight! I’d love to!” Antonio agreed. “What time?” 

“How does ASAP sound?” Feliciano offered. 

“It sounds good!” Antonio pulled out his cell phone to check the time. “I should change, right? I should have a formal look? White shirt, black pants?” 

“Yes, if you have it.” 

“Alright,” Antonio began writing a text message on his phone. “I don’t live  _ too  _ far from here, but if I walk it will take a while. Let me see if I get my other roommate to drive me…” His voice trailed off. Feliciano’s mind began to wander as he waited for the next update from Antonio until the cheerful chime of the door bell ringing caught his attention. 

In came both Ludwig and Gilbert, carrying their duffel bags from the gym. Ludwig unzipped his bag and pulled out the shirt he had borrowed the previous night. “Sorry to intrude, but I just wanted to return the shirt. I cleaned it, so there should be no issues.” 

“Oh,” Feliciano gently took the shirt back. “Thank you! I’m sorry I didn’t come to the gym like I promised. My hands are pretty full right now at the restaurant a-and--”

“It’s not a problem,” Ludwig said, shrugging it off. “You can come to the gym whenever you’d like. There’s no requirement or correct way to exercise.” 

“I know, I know, I just...for myself I want to be there as soon as possible,” Feliciano concluded, blushing slightly. 

An awkward silence fell over them, not knowing what else to say. Soon, Gilbert peered around his brother with a smirk. “Do you want his number?” 

Ludwig glared at his brother. “What is  _ wrong  _ with you?” 

“Dad dropped me on my head when I was baby. Don’t you know this?” 

Antonio laughed. “Really? You were dropped on your head?” 

“He’s lying; neither of our parents dropped us when we were children,” Ludwig interjected. 

“How do you know? Were you there?” 

Ludwig groaned and turned away. “I need to get home; an opportunity has opened up for me to start a business, so I need to make some calls and--” 

“Do you need a place for a meeting?” Feliciano asked, inserting himself back into the conversation. 

Ludwig looked over at Feliciano and raised an eyebrow. “Not yet, but perhaps soon,” he then said, happy to answer the seemingly useless question. 

Feliciano smiled; he  _ knew  _ he wasn’t wrong that Ludwig had to be a businessman, despite his thoughts in the previous night.  _ Never second guess your gut, Feli _ . “We happily give discounts to any business people who have their meetings here!” Feliciano explained. 

“That’s a thing?” Ludwig questioned, slightly confused. 

“It’s totally a thing,” Gilbert blurted. “You’re just such a rookie at this business thing, Luddy.” 

It was strange to see a brother trying to get his brother hooked up with someone else, especially a man. But Feliciano wasn’t going to complain; it was all working in his favor. “We do it all the time! A lot of businesses take the opportunity; we should probably start a stamp card!” Feliciano laughed at himself to hide his embarrassment over a lame joke. 

“Well, if that’s the case,” Ludwig began. “I’ll be in contact with you then.” 

_ Ding ding ding!! Ho vinto! Ho vinto!   _ Feliciano grinned. “Wonderful!!” he cheered. “Well, I won’t hold you all up for too much longer; Antonio, if you can, please be back here ASAP to start your first shift.” 

Antonio gave a nod. “ _ Sí, sí, sí _ ! Of course!” he answered. He glanced at Gilbert. “You’re cool with driving me back and forth?” 

Gilbert patted Antonio’s back. “Consider it me protecting you from the wrath of Francis,” he joked. He then waved to Feliciano as he, Antonio and Ludwig walked out of the restaurant. As Feliciano watched them go their separate ways, he heard his brother chuckle behind him. 

“I bet you 50 quid that blond is straight,” Lovino muttered sardonically.

Feliciano turned around and crossed his arms. “I bet you 50 that he’s not and I hook up with him in a month,” he countered. 

Lovino snorted and held out his hand. “Alright, let’s make it a deal then.” 

Feliciano shook hands with his brother. “It’s a deal,” he confirmed. “And FYI, you’re going to lose.” 

 

Erzsébet heard muffled music when she stepped out of the shower. She knew that the encounter from the gym had shaken Roderich up a little, and the only way Roderich could recover was play music, as always. Dried and dressed, Erzsébet walked down to the living room to find the music had come to a stop and footsteps coming towards her. Roderich leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. 

“Hey,” he said, softly. 

“Hey,” Erzsébet stepped over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry about what happened earlier.” 

“It wasn’t your fault,  _ liebling _ ,” Roderich replied. “Just maybe, going to the gym together is not something for us.” 

Erzsébet sighed; she was frustrated because from her angle, Roderich wasn’t really trying. Erzsébet was doing her best to remember the millions of different composers Roderich had rambled about for the three years they had been together. She had attended every concert Roderich performed at. All of this work for it to feel that Roderich wasn’t returning the effort. 

“To be fair,” Erzsébet added. “We haven’t been taking the weight lifting class for long. It’s been a few weeks.” 

Roderich shrugged. “I just don’t think I have the strength…” 

“You do, I know you do. You just have to believe in yourself, Roderich.” 

Roderich pulled away and sighed. “I hear hiking is nice. Plus there’s beautiful scenery as a reward.” 

“Is this because of Gilbert’s behavior? Don’t let him scare you away. He’s an ass, okay?” Erzsébet said. “And if he tries to do what he did today again, I will  _ personally  _ fight him.” 

Roderich laughed. “ _ Liebling _ , don’t. It’s fine.” He brushed back a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll give the class one more shot,” he added as he started to walk away. “Perhaps another class would work better? Why don’t I sign up for your swim class? That’s less taxing, right?” 

“Yes, but Gilbert is my assistant,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. “Only because he was the only employee available at the time. Otherwise, I would have picked someone else.”

“Somehow, I think he becomes less terrifying in a swim class setting,” Roderich had stepped into the kitchen to begin fixing dinner. “Besides, I don’t think he’ll have the free reign when  _ you’re  _ the teacher.” 

Erzsébet smirked and laughed. “True; I’ll be sure to put him in his place.” She stepped into the kitchen as well and opened the refrigerator. Some time ago, it had become routine for the two of them to cook dinner together. It was their chance to come together after a busy day and catch up; normally, the two of them were in completely two different directions. Cooking was always the best way for them to bond. “What’re we cooking today?” 

“Eh,” Roderich replied with a shrug. “I’m feeling a bit lazy today; let’s just throw some ingredients together and hope that it makes a dish.” 

Erzsébet then took it upon herself to pull out various vegetables and a frozen chicken breast they hadn’t used from the previous week. Placing them on the counter, she took a step back and grinned at her beloved. “Sounds like a plan.” 

 

Starting a business was never easy; Ludwig knew this well. It didn’t matter how good a spot or neighborhood it was in, a new business could easily wither and die within weeks of opening. Ludwig, having a degree in business, had made several different plans, outlines and models as to how he would run his business. He understood finances well, he understood advertising, he understood it all. But he had one problem. 

Ludwig had no idea what his perfect business would be. 

The root of the problem was Ludwig didn’t have a passionate hobby. Sure, he liked teaching short classes at the gym and working out, but that wasn’t anything to start a brand new business for. Whatever Ludwig would start a business for, the idea had to reveal itself quick. Ludwig had received word that two buildings had become vacant. One was a smaller venue, best used for selling baked goods or little trinkets while the other was a former “gentlemen’s” club. 

Naturally, Ludwig was hoping to get the smaller venue; he would have no idea where to begin with the old club. But still, the question was what would he even begin to sell? 

Regardless, Ludwig would purchase the venue immediately. He had the money, and ideas and plans came with time. 

At 9:00am, Ludwig was expecting a call from the realtor. Finishing his breakfast, he soon sat down on his couch with his second cup of coffee. Taking a slow, thoughtful sip, his cellphone rang. He quickly set the cup down on the table and answered the phone hastily. 

“This is Ludwig speaking,” he answered. 

“Hey, uh, Ludwig! How’ve you been? You okay?” His realtor John asked. 

“I’ve been doing well, and you?” 

“Oh, same stuff, different day.” John paused for a moment. “So, um, I’ve got some news for you.” Ludwig sighed; from the sound of it, it wasn’t the news he would be hoping for. “That smaller venue you were aiming for? Yeah, someone else came by and bought it first thing. Well, not first thing, but after their first tour.” 

“A rich guy?” Ludwig questioned. 

“No, actually. He was around your age, I think. Rambling about how he’s going to run a bookstore or something. Not a smart move; books are dying.” 

Ludwig leaned back on the couch and rubbed his right temple. “Well, if I remember correctly, that venue had what? A store front, a small kitchen and an apartment above it? He could do great business there if he’s smart.” Which was what Ludwig assumed; a smart person would have stepped in that venue and bought it immediately. Clearly, Ludwig wasn’t quick enough. 

“Yeah. I think he told me what his plan was, but I stopped listening if I’m honest.” There was another pause. “So, right now, the other venue I have is that old gentleman’s club. It’s not too much more than that other place. Would you like a look around?” 

_ I have no idea what I would do with an old gentleman’s club _ , Ludwig thought. “I suppose it won’t hurt to look,” he replied. “You’re positive there’s nothing similar to the other venue?” 

“One thousand percent,” John sighed. “I’ll keep looking though. Otherwise, it could be a long wait. Does Friday morning work for you?” 

Ludwig grabbed his small planner and flipped through the pages until he reached the current week. “As long as it’s in the morning, we’re good,” he answered. 

“Great, ten o’clock?” 

“Sure.” 

“Good, I’ll see you then! Bye!” 

The conversation ended there, and Ludwig carefully set his phone aside next to his planner. Sighing again, he grabbed a pen and wrote down the meeting, muttering to himself:

“What the  _ fuck  _ am I going to do with an old gentleman’s club?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I have no idea Ludwig, what are you going to do with an old gentleman's club?? 
> 
> Anyways, happy December everyone! I'm sure a lot of you are very busy with finals (if you're still in school), holiday shopping or if you're like me, a lot of performances are coming up. Just the other day I was concertmaster for a concert of Handel's Messiah; talk about stressful! So I hope that reading this update will give you some time to breathe and relax; take your mind off of what is stressing you out! 
> 
> As always, if there are any errors throughout the chapter or if you have any critiques, let us know in the comments! Or if you just want to say hi, that's cool too!! 
> 
> See you soon! 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia) and Ellie (TheCrystalFalls)


	5. Red Hot Shorts

Feliciano had nearly turned his whole room upside down, looking for a pair of shorts. Of course he had no problem finding his  _ regular  _ gym pants, a kind that he would normally wear when he didn’t care about his appearance. However, he wanted a  _ specific  _ pair of shorts that he knew he had. Mainly because they were  _ short  _ and the shaped his butt quite nicely. Feli used to wear the pair of shorts several year ago, during his most flirty and promiscuous phase.  _ Everyone  _ loved the pair of shorts when he wore them, and so he hoped they would work their magic one last time. 

But they were nowhere to be found. 

As Feliciano continued to look through his closet for the tenth time, he heard the distinctive sound of someone biting into a crunchy apple. “Can I help you, Lovino?” Feli asked without turning around to check who it was. 

“Did a tornado come through here?” Lovino joked. He was leaning against the door frame with a smug smirk on his face. “What are you even trying to do? Don’t you know cleaning means making the mess smaller?” 

“I’m looking for something,” Feliciano explained absentmindedly. 

“Like what?”

Feliciano froze in his steps and turned to his brother with veiled suspicion. “A pair of shorts.” 

Lovino rolled his eyes. “You mean those hot red ones that were so tight, everyone could see your junk?” 

“They weren’t  _ that  _ tight,” Feliciano defended. “You haven’t seen them around, have you?” 

“Why would I have seen them around?” Lovino mosied into the room, taking another bite of the apple. He looked around the room. “I mean, I’m sure they’re somewhere.” 

“You wouldn’t have happened to borrow them?” 

“We’re not even the same size,  _ idiota _ .” 

“Eh, we kinda are,” Feliciano crossed his arms and mirrored his brother’s smirk. “I know you borrow my stuff.” 

Lovino snorted. “Why would I--”

“Could I just, you know, look through your room? It’ll only take a second.” 

Lovino frowned. “ _ Fine _ , I borrowed them once. For a Halloween party last year.” There was another snap sound as he bit in the apple again. “But I know I put them back in your stash.” 

“Then why can’t I find it? Hmm?” Feli let his arms fall to his sides. “What would you need hot red shorts for?” 

“I thought they would make my butt look nice!” Lovino hissed. 

“Those shorts could never save that flat ass of yours.” 

Cue Lovino’s unfiltered fury. He stood straight up from the door frame and clenched his left fist. “You’re lucky I like the taste of this apple, otherwise I would have chucked it at your head by now!” Lovino shouted. “ _ Che palle _ , and to think I was going to help you find those stupid shorts in the first place!” 

“When are you going to learn to take a joke?!” Feliciano defended himself. “Come on, you have a decent butt. I’m sure everyone loves it. Alright? Is that better?” 

“No!” 

Lovino stormed off, leaving Feliciano at square one. Nearly at a loss, Feliciano sat down on his bed and reluctantly began to put on his boring, regular working out pants. He soon stood up, doing a little wiggle dance to make sure the pants were on properly. As he turned to step out of the room, he was greeted by a piece of cloth landing on his face. 

“Take your stupid shorts!” Lovino shouted. 

Feliciano pulled the shorts off of his face and grinned. “Aw, thank you, Lovi! See, you’re nice sometimes!” 

“I’m nice all the time, stupid head!! Not that you deserve it!!” Lovino yelled from the other room. 

Feliciano shook his head and laughed as he quickly took off the pants and he put the shorts on. Rushing out of the house, Feliciano hurried to the gym. He knew the class about to start any minute; he would most likely come into the class late. It was typical for Feliciano to be running late, but the stunt with his brother added more time. But it didn’t matter; after all, Feliciano  _ liked  _ attention. 

 

Yoga was Ludwig’s least favorite class to instruct. It wasn’t that he felt that it was a useless class, it was more of the fact that Ludwig found 90% of the yoga positions uncomfortable. As a tall individual, one who had worked very hard to strengthen his muscles, being flexible wasn’t his strong suit. 

Alas, Ludwig needed more income for the time being. Teaching as many classes as he could at the gym would simply have to suffice for now. 

Ludwig sat down on his yoga mat that rested in front of the class and just as he was about to begin, someone came running in. Immediately, he recognized the man as he stepped into the room, stumbling over his own feet.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Feliciano apologized. 

“No need to apologize,” Ludwig said. “Please, find a spot. We’re about to start.” 

Feliciano nodded as he bolted to an empty spot in the front row. As he set down his yoga mat, Ludwig couldn’t help but notice the  _ obnoxious _ red shorts Feliciano was wearing. Not only were they an atrocious color, but they were unreasonably tight. Ludwig couldn’t fathom wearing something so tight. Not to mention they left  _ nothing  _ to the imagination. Any wrong move and the whole class would see  _ everything _ .

Before Feliciano could finish sitting down and notice that Ludwig had been (confusedly) staring, Ludwig cleared his throat and looked ahead at the class once again. “Good afternoon everyone. Welcome to those who are new and welcome back if you’ve been here before. We’ll begin with some stretching. Let’s start by putting out feet out in front of us and reaching out to our toes.” 

And so the class continued to follow through with their stretches, Ludwig guiding them through each step. Every now and again, something would catch Ludwig’s eye, and it would be Feliciano’s  _ stupid  _ red shorts. Of course, it was only a glance every time Ludwig would look. But what he  _ wasn’t  _ aware of was how many times he was actually looking over at Feliciano and his  _ ridiculous  _ red shorts. 

“Okay everyone, let’s all return to our regular positions. We will be starting with a tree pose,” Ludwig said, turning his back to the class for a brief moment. He felt that he needed to recollect himself and prepare his mind to not be distracted by anyone (well, mainly Feliciano) for the rest of the class. Fifteen minutes had already passed, meaning that there was forty-five more minutes until the class was over and Feliciano left; then, Ludwig could be at peace. 

About halfway through the class, it was time to do some poses that required a bit more flexibility and stamina. “As you return to your regular stance, begin to mentally prepare yourself for the ‘Downward-facing Dog’ position.” He looked forward to the back of the class, again telling himself not to look anywhere else. Once everyone in the class was ready, he instructed them how to get into the simple position. “Begin to count to thirty as you hold the position. If you need any help, let me know.” 

“Um, sorry!” Feliciano chirped. He raised his hand and wave a bit. “It’s been awhile since I’ve done some yoga; could you show me how to do ‘Downward-facing Dog’ again?” 

Ludwig took a deep breath. “Sure,” he replied, stepping forward towards the Italian. “You are going to want to bend over and support yourself with your hands spread out like so,” he further explained, holding out his hands to demonstrate. 

“Oh, okay, so like this?” Feliciano said as he leaned over. He supported himself well with his hands, but Ludwig could tell that he was purposefully sticking his butt up higher. 

Ludwig looked away and cleared his throat. “That’s a start,” he said. “You’re going to want to have your legs further out, however.” 

“Can you show me?” Feliciano asked. He was still bent over, and tried to look around himself to face Ludwig. 

Ludwig sighed.  _ Gilbert just  _ had  _ to encourage this man to be flirtatious,  _ he thought. “Just put your legs out further.” 

“Like this?” Feli brought his legs up closer to his arms, which made his butt more and more obvious. 

“Try the other way.” Ludwig said. He purposefully turned himself away; why did those red shorts have to be so  _ tight _ ? And was this man acting dumb on purpose? 

“ _ Ooh _ !” Feliciano exclaimed, moving his legs backwards this time. “So, like this?!” 

“Yes, exactly,” Ludwig answered, quickly walking away. “How is everyone else doing? Good? Then, let's count to thirty before we move to the next step.” 

The room fell silent again as the class silently counted to themselves, and Ludwig felt he could concentrate again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; thirty seconds most definitely passed by, meaning that it was time to do the Big Toe Pose. A stance that required the person to bend over and basically touch their toes, holding the stance for several seconds to stretch their hamstrings. 

It also meant it would give Feliciano another chance to flaunt his very round, very plump ass. 

Feliciano knew that his plan and his nifty little red shorts were working. Ludwig seemed to be stumbling over himself, only a bit, and he couldn’t help himself to at least  _ glance  _ at Feli’s butt. The next goal was to get Ludwig to be head over heels. That would prove much  harder, however. 

“Alright, hold your stance for a couple of more seconds. Our next pose will be something called the ‘Big Toe Pose.’ How are we all feeling?” Ludwig announced. 

“Pretty good!” Feliciano piped up. He lifted his head up for a brief moment to look at Ludwig.  _ I wish you wore a tighter shirt _ , he mused to himself dreamily.

“Okay, everyone slowly stand back up to your regular stance. Count to ten. I will give you all a bit of a warning; this pose is a bit strenuous on one’s back and legs. If you have issues, I suggest that you do not participate in this move.” 

_ Oh don’t worry; I’m more flexible than you even know. Yet.  _ Feliciano smirked to himself and shook his hands. Ludwig gave thorough instructions as to how to reach the pose. In fact, they were so thorough, a child could easily understand what was going on in the class. Even though it was obvious Ludwig didn’t care for yoga, it was no wonder as to why he was the leader for the class. 

“Once you find yourself in position, count to thirty. Then, slowly stand back up,” Ludwig continued. “This will be the last thing we do today. Once you’re ready, please feel free to leave the class quietly.” 

At this moment, Feliciano fell over on his left side. This  _ wasn’t  _ as planned. He made a small yelp as he flopped over on the floor. Ludwig quickly came over to help Feliciano back on his feet. “You didn’t have to help me,” Feliciano said, his face heating up a little. He turned around to face Ludwig. “I’m just very clumsy.” 

“You shouldn’t push yourself too hard,” Ludwig muttered before walking away. “You could really hurt yourself.” 

“I wasn’t going to hurt myself!” Feliciano called after him. He watched Ludwig kneel next to his yoga mat and slowly rolled it back up. 

“Just be careful next time,” Ludwig stated firmly, still avoiding his eyes. He stood with his rolled up yoga mat tucked under his arm and followed someone out of the room. 

Feliciano sighed as he too began to roll up his yoga mat. “Well, at least he got a look at my butt,” he muttered under his breath. “At least I  _ think  _ he did.” He took his time walking across the hardwood floor to the exit of the room. As he walked across the gym, he caught Ludwig over by the front desk, scolding his brother over something. Feliciano passed them and hesitated for a moment, thinking of waving goodbye. 

Gilbert noticed him first. “You made it!  _ Finally _ !” he joked. “Did Luddy bore you to death?” 

“Hm, no. The class was actually quite lovely,” Feliciano answered, looking to Ludwig admiringly. “I think I’ll keep coming on Saturdays.” 

Ludwig nodded. “You’re welcome any time.” He excused himself, stating that he was going to do a small workout of his own before he would clock out for the day. 

“Don’t worry,” Gilbert said once Ludwig was out of earshot. “He has no idea how to react to flirting and whatnot. Give him time and he’ll come around.” 

Feliciano smiled. “Why are you helping me?” he questioned. 

“Eh,” Gilbert paused. “A couple of reasons, I suppose. Number one, it makes my brother uncomfortable and as the older brother, it’s funny to see him uncomfortable. Number two, my brother’s a couple of years younger than me, and he’s  _ never  _ had a relationship or a hookup or anything. He’s just so serious all the time. So, I think it would be good to see him relax and loosen up a bit.” 

“Aw, you’re such a nice brother then.” Feliciano frowned. “I wish my brother wasn’t such a jerk all the time.” 

“Who says I’m not a jerk?” 

Feliciano laughed. “Well, I’m pretty persistent, so I don’t plan on giving up on your brother just yet,” he added. “Do I need to be more obvious?” 

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. “More obvious than red hot shorts? For my brother, probably. You could say it to his face and he might not get the memo.” 

They both laughed and Feliciano started towards the door. “I’ll come up with something.” He called as he was walking backwards out the door.  _ I’ll come up with something _ . 

 

Once again, it was a busy night at  **_Bellisima’s_ ** . Antonio was still going through his training, but was proving over and over that he was a diligent worker. After all, he was working as bartender and at times, waiter. So far, Feliciano was happy that he had hired Antonio; they needed all of the help they could get. 

“This new guy we hired,” Lovino commented as he balanced three plates on a tray. “He’s not very bright.” 

“Why should that matter?” Feliciano replied. “We needed the extra help and he’s good at that. Plus he’s actually pretty good at mixing drinks together. Have you tried his martinis? They’re unbelievably smooth.” 

Lovino groaned. “No, he keeps asking me the dumbest questions. Like before the lunch hour began he asked me where we put the menus when his hand was rest on top of them.” 

Feliciano snorted. “Maybe he’s just trying to start conversation with you.” 

“Why would he do that?” 

“Because he wants to be friends?” 

“That’s stupid.” 

Lovino stepped out of the kitchen and Feliciano shook his head.  _ Isn’t that just what...normal people do? _ He wondered. Soon he stepped out from behind the swinging doors and into the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. At the front desk, he grabbed two menus and smiled to two familiar faces of regular customers at the restaurant. 

“ _ Buonasera _ , Roderich and Erzsébet!” Feliciano greeted. “It’s been awhile since you’ve come here! Did you just have a concert?”

Roderich shook his head. “No, we’re just having a night out for ourselves,” he answered. “It’s been some time since we had a date night.” His arm was around Erzsébet’s waist as he pulled her closer to him. If Feli didn’t know better, he would have thought the action to be somewhat forced, as if Roderich was trying to  _ prove  _ that everything was okay. But the couple had been happily together for many years; they were bound to get married at sooner or later. 

“Ah, that’s nice,” Feliciano said, grabbing two menus. He led the couple to a booth that sat in a far corner, knowing that they would want to be away from the main chaos that was going on in the restaurant. As Roderich and Erzsébet took their seats, Feliciano handed them their menus. “Would you like your usuals? I can just put the order in right away.” 

“That would be wonder--” Erzsébet began. 

“Actually, I think I’d like to look the menu over,” Roderich interjected firmly. 

Erzsébet looked at him, slightly confused. “But...you always just get the spaghetti bolognese.” 

“I know, but maybe I want to try something different.” 

The air seemed tense, which was unusual for the two of them. “I can easily come back, if you’d like. No problem,” he offered, taking a few steps back. “Or...I could get you some drinks? We have a new bartender and he makes  _ excellent  _ mixed cocktails.” 

“I’ll just have water,” Roderich replied, his head glued to the menu. 

Erzsébet sighed. “What’s new, Feli?” 

“I recommend a martini.” 

She smiled and nodded. “I’ll try that, then.” 

With a small nod, Feliciano quickly left to place the order in, leaving the two to quitely argue in peace. 

 

It was supposed to be a peaceful night out, but Roderich could already sense that something was off. The strange thing was that  _ nothing  _ had particularly changed between him and Erzsébet. They continued to go about their days and busy schedules to come home and share evenings together. That was the norm from the very beginning, and the two of them were very happy with it. 

Right? 

“ _ Liebling _ , what’s wrong?” Roderich asked. “Did I forget something again?” 

“No, no,” Erzsébet replied. She wiped her hands along the glossy table, trying to occupy her mind with something small and trivial. Roderich simply shrugged and went back to looking at them menu. However, this did not last long as Erzsébet soon broke the silence between them. “Do you ever want to...try something exciting?” she asked. 

Roderich kindly closed the menu and set in down in front of him so he could focus on the conversation. “Well, what do you mean?” 

“I dunno. Don’t you ever want to do something that’s  _ slightly  _ different from our routine?” Erzsébet clarified. 

He thought for a moment. “Well, I’m travelling back to Austria soon for several performances. You’re welcome to come with me?” 

Erzsébet closed her eyes and bit her lip. That wasn’t  _ at all  _ what she meant. “I mean, between the two of us. Something that’s special for us. To do together.” 

“Is travelling and going on dates not special to you?” he questioned. Roderich was very confused; spending time with Erzsébet was always special to him, no matter how simple it was. Did she no longer feel the same? 

“It is special but...it’s become routine for us. I mean something  _ out  _ of our routine,” she continued. “I just want to do something exciting, that’s all.” 

Roderich hesitated and twisted his fingers around. Did he do something wrong? “I’m not sure I follow, Erzsébet.” He glanced around at the restaurant, hoping that Feliciano would be back soon. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Erzsébet sighed and leaned in closer. “I was trying to give you hints, but I’m talking about our time  _ in bed _ ,” she whispered. 

“Am I stealing the covers again?” Roderich asked. 

“No,” Erzsébet put her head in her hands to cover up her laugh. “I’m talking about our sex life, Roderich.” 

Shocked, Roderich nearly hit his head on the wall behind him when he jumped. Talking about sex always made him somewhat uncomfortable, especially when Erzsébet spoke about it in public (either to her friends or with Roderich alone). “Can’t we discuss this at home?” Roderich asked. He opened the menu again to try to push the conversation away. 

“You’ve been so busy with your preparations for your concert, I can’t seem to get your attention long enough to even talk about what you want from the store!!” Erzsébet replied. “So yes, we have to discuss it here while I have your attention.” 

“I thought we were being experimental enough,” Roderich continued, lowering his voice. “I mean, you tied me up that one time.” 

Erzsébet smiled and hummed as she reminisced. “That was fun,” she sighed. “I don’t mean that we should do something new  _ every time _ , just every once and awhile.” 

“Which is?” 

Erzsébet looked away and started to play with a loose curl that had fallen out from her bun. “A threesome?” 

Roderich froze. “Out of the question.” 

“Oh come on, Roderich! You didn’t even think about it for a minute!” 

“I will not have orgies in my house!” 

“A threesome is  _ not  _ an orgy, Roderich.” Erzsébet reached for his hands. “I’m just suggesting an experiment. To give us a thrill again.” 

Before Roderich could counter her point, Feliciano returned with their drinks. Placing the two glasses in front of the couple, he grinned. “So, have we decided what we are ordering tonight?” he asked, taking a step back. He pulled out a small notepad and waited for their answer. 

“I’ll have the lasagna.” Erzsébet answered. She handed her menu to Feli. 

“And for you, Roderich?” 

Roderich hesitated. “I guess I’ll just stick with the spaghetti bolognese.” 

“Sounds good, I’ll put your order in straight away.” 

Feliciano quickly disappeared behind the kitchen doors and Roderich took a deep breath. “A threesome is  _ never  _ a good idea, Erzsébet. It can...ruin a relationship, actually,” he argued hesitantly. 

“It’ll be a one time thing. We’ll get someone from like, Craigslist, and then we’ll never see them again,” Erzsébet said. 

“That’s a fantastic way for both of us to get an STD,” Roderich hissed. “I don’t understand what’s made you think that a threesome is what the two of us need.” 

“I just want something exciting, you know? I love our routine but, something new would be nice,” She paused. “Besides, we don’t really get to spend a lot of time together besides sex or simply cuddling up to each other.” 

“That’s not true,” Roderich defended himself. He took a second to think. “We cook together.” 

“When you’re not practicing or performing or teaching,” Erzsébet added. She leaned back and closed her eyes. “Do you want me to be honest?” 

Roderich nodded. 

“I’ve been feeling like we can’t connect lately. You’re doing your own thing and I’m doing my own. I’m just worried about us, and I think we should try something new to bring us together.” 

“So...you suggest a threesome to bring us together?” 

Erzsébet leaned forward again smirked. “You know, sometimes people get more aroused when they watch their partner be pleased by someone else.” 

“So basically, you want to watch me be pleased by another woman?” Roderich asked. This all still didn’t make sense to him. 

“Or man. Whichever.” 

Roderich leaned back and shook his head with a chuckle. “Okay, I’ll think about this. But I make no promises, alright?” He paused. “And we both have to  _ like  _ the person. It can’t be just some random person off of the street. Or someone disgusting and brutish.” 

Erzsébet smiled. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, friends!! I hope you're all hanging in there during the stresses of the holiday season. I'm doing my best myself to keep up with all of the things I need to do in addition to teaching and stuff. Anyways, here's a very dumb chapter where Feli tries to flaunt his butt by wearing red hot shorts. It's a good strategy, right? 
> 
> Anyways, as always, if you have any suggestions or critiques, feel free to leave a comment! We always read comments and do our best to reply to them! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! See you soon! 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia) and Ellie (TheCrystalFalls)


	6. Where's the Real Gilbert?

It was all so quiet in the apartment, except for the dripping sound from the kitchen sink where the faucet could not be turned off properly. Gilbert had stepped out of his room for a snack and found Francis sound asleep on his laptop keyboard. He walked for a closer look, and saw that Francis was leaned on at least one button, sending multiple “n’s” across several pages in the word document. Knowing that Francis would hate it that he had done something stupid, Gilbert knew he should wake up the sleeping Frenchman. But instead of waking him in a kind manner, Gilbert decided to be his typical obnoxious self. 

Slowly creeping over to the recycling bin, Gilbert grabbed an empty beer can that had been resting on top. He then stood right next to Francis, with the beer right next to Francis’ ear, Gilbert crushed the can with all of his might. It resulted in a loud, metal crackling sound, to which Francis immediately woke up with a high pitch scream. 

While Gilbert laughed, Francis crossed his arms and glared. “A simple ‘hey, wake up!’ would have been just fine!” 

“That’s less fun,” Gilbert replied. He stepped into the kitchen and opened the cupboard where the potato chips were stored. “Also congrats on finally hitting your page minimum!” 

Francis gave Gilbert a confused look before he glanced at his computer screen. He sighed. “ _ Merde _ , it happened again,” he groaned, holding down the backspace button. 

“You’re lucky that your drool hasn’t damaged your keyboard,” Gilbert continued. He opened the bag too eagerly, resulting in the bag ripping completely and chips fell everywhere. 

“I  _ don’t  _ drool,” Francis hissed. 

Gilbert picked up a chip that had landed on the counter and ate it. “Then what’s that around your mouth?” 

Francis wiped his mouth with his sleeve, clearly wiping away any remaining evidence that he  _ in fact _ , drools when he sleeps and began typing again. “Dry skin.” He glanced up from his computer. “Please tell me you have work today.” 

“What, trying to get rid of me?” Gilbert smirked. He collected the rest of the chips that had fallen on the counter and placed them in a bowl. “Of course I have work.” He wasn’t looking forward to it. Sure, working at a local, small gym paid the bills, but it just wasn’t  _ enticing _ enough. The only fun he had was while annoying Ludwig and  _ especially  _ Erzsébet, but those moments only lasted a few seconds. And this was Gilbert’s third job since he had moved to London in two months; despite  _ wanting  _ to get a different job, he knew he  _ shouldn’t  _ get a new one. 

“Good, I get more work done when you’re not here doing your antics,” Francis commented. He grabbed a library book that was sitting beside him and flipped through his pages for a source to quote. “Isn’t there anyone you could hang out with instead of lurking here at home?” 

Gilbert pulled out the chair across from Francis and sat down, trying not to think of all his friends who were lame enough to get sick of him. “ _ Duh _ , of course. But I’m too cool for them.”

Francis snorted. “In other words, you’re too annoying for them.” 

“Not true,” Gilbert lied, pale cheeks turning a light pink, and with a sudden urge to change the subject he picked the worst possible one. “Don’t you have anything better to do instead of being so whiny all the time?” 

Francis’ smug smile quickly vanished into a frown. “I am  _ not  _ whiny.”

“You sure?” Gilbert took a step forward, the distinctive sound of chips crunch underneath the table was heard, and he smirked. “You’re whiny and demanding. It’s why your friendships and relationships always fail.”  

Francis stood up and pointed at Gilbert; he had clearly struck a nerve. “You take that back!” he roared. “They fail because I’m busy focusing on my career!” 

“ _ And _ you’re whiny and demanding. Not to mention you love to stir up drama.” 

Francis slammed his laptop closed and swiped it off of the table to take back to his room. “You wanna play? Fine, we’ll play. The reason why no one likes you is because you put on this bragging personality to flaunt how amazing you are when in reality, you’re so insecure about yourself that you can’t find the motivation to do anything that you  _ actually  _ love.” 

Gilbert scoffed. Francis, playing psychologist yet again. “Me, insecure? Are you out of your--”

“Not only that, but you’ve covered your insecurities up for so long that you don’t know how to be vulnerable with anyone.”

“Shut up, Francis.” His knuckles were turning white where the gripped the edge of the table. This was exactly the conversation he’d been trying to avoid---

“You use your false sense of confidence to convince yourself that you’re not depressed or lonely. But in reality, you--”

“Shut up!!” Gilbert shouted, slamming his hands onto the table. He wasn’t going to admit that everything Francis had said was true; he could already feel his fragile ego crumbling. “This is what I mean about you stirring up pointless drama!” 

Francis sighed. “You’re right; I’m sorry. I’m just so tired and testy because of these deadlines.” He then grabbed the rest of his books with his free hand. “But you probably shouldn’t pick fights with me.” 

“You make it too easy,” Gilbert said, leaning on the counter, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. 

“Maybe,” Francis added as he began to walk away. “But you don’t think before you act. So you can’t take what you dish out.” 

_ Like he’s one to talk--  _ “Neither can you!” 

Francis stopped in the hallway and peered around the corner. “Look, maybe stop picking fights for once and be yourself,” he said, gently. “You’ve put yourself in a cage, my friend. A routine that pushes people away from you.” He chuckled. “But hey, at least you have your family that loves you.”

Gilbert smirked. “Well duh, they have to love me. I’m awesome.” 

Francis sighed and shook his head, finally making his way back to his room. “Just be yourself, idiot!” 

 

Erzsébet stepped into the pool room with her duffel bag over her shoulder and took a deep breath, getting a whiff of the classic chlorine smell. Not too far behind her was Roderich, who was also carrying his own bag with his towel and a change of clothes. After a long talk at home, Roderich decided to try Erzsébet’s swimming class, despite knowing that Gilbert would be the assistant and would most likely torment Roderich again. But fortunately, Roderich tried to look at things positively, and wanted to support his girlfriend. 

Roderich sat on the edge of the pool and dipped his feet and legs into the water. He shivered from the cool temperature and sighed. “This already seems like a more relaxing than the weight lifting,” he commented idly. He slowly moved his legs through the water and turned to look over his shoulder. “Granted, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is not here yet.” 

“Give him a couple more minutes,” Erzsébet said, taking off her shirt and shorts to reveal her red one piece bathing suit. “The only thing he seems to have in common with his brother is his punctuality.” 

“Really? He was late the other day.” 

“By like a minute. It’s probably a one time thing,” Erzsébet concluded. She stuffed her clothes into her bag and sat down next to Roderich. She wrapped her arms around Roderich’s waist and hummed happily. “I’m glad you’re still giving this a try. But just because you’re my boyfriend doesn’t mean you’ll get a pass.” 

Roderich smiled. “You mean I don’t get bonus points for being a teacher’s pet?” 

Erzsébet laughed and jokingly pushed Roderich away from her. “Of course not! You have to actually try, okay? Promise me that.” She knew that Roderich always had good intentions, but she fully expected him to try to hide behind the other students just to get out of doing any exercise. 

“I already told you,  _ liebling _ , swimming doesn’t stress me out. I’ll do my very best,” Roderich replied, gently tapping her nose with his index finger. 

“Ugh, people in love are so gross.” 

Erzsébet and Roderich both turned around to see Gilbert tossing his bag on the bench. It was somehow thrown with enough precision that it landed perfectly on the bench and did not fall. Mildly impressed, Erzsébet raised an eyebrow and let out a sigh. 

“Hello, Gilbert,” she greeted reluctantly. She stood up from the edge and faced him with her hands on her hips. “I’m going to need you to be on your best behavior today.” 

“Why? ‘Cause your wimpy boyfriend is here?” Gilbert asked with a smug grin. 

“No, because we have a lot to get done today and we don’t have time for you to play games like last class!” Erzsébet hissed. 

“What?! Everyone loved playing water baseball last week!” 

“It was a distraction from  _ my  _ instruction!! That's not even a real sport!!! It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen!”

“That’s the point! They’re here to have fun, not drown in boredom!”  

Erzsébet turned away and paced in a circle to collect her thoughts. She stopped in her tracks and folded her hands together, her fingers covering her lips. “How about this, you cooperate with me for the duration of class, and we’ll leave ten minutes dedicated to your made up game.” 

Gilbert scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “That’s just enough time to set up! We need a half hour; ten minutes to set up and twenty minutes to play!” 

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” Roderich inquired. 

“Gilbert thought it was a good idea to get here  _ before  _ me the other day to set up some game idea he had. By the time I got here, he had already had the class playing the game and I couldn’t get them to focus back to actually  _ learn  _ what they signed up for!” Erzsébet explained, exasperated. She turned back to Gilbert. “You’re not pulling that stunt again.” 

Gilbert snickered and pushed past Erzsébet. “If I can’t be myself, what am I supposed to do?” 

“Be a good  _ assistant _ !” Erzsébet shouted, her voice echoing in the room. 

Gilbert remembered what Francis had said that morning, let out a sigh and shrugged. “Alright, alright. Everyone’s been telling me to be good, so,” he paused for a second, glancing over at Roderich who was still sitting on the edge of the pool. He thought about pushing the weak musician into the water, but decided it wouldn't be worth his energy. “I guess I'll be good.” 

Erzsébet sighed with relief. “ _ Thank  _ you.” She tied her hair back into a ponytail. The door from the women's locker room opened and in came the usual group of middle aged women. Erzsébet turned around and walked towards them to greet them politely, leaving Gilbert and Roderich behind. 

Feeling nosy, Gilbert sat down next to Roderich, letting his feet into the cool water. “So, how did someone like you end up with Erzsébet?” he asked. 

Roderich looked at Gilbert and leaned back, offended. “That was pretty rude. It’s none of your business, quite frankly.” 

“So, like a dating site or what?” Gilbert persisted. 

“Again, it’s none of your business!” 

Gilbert leaned closer to Roderich just to try to intimidate him. “Where are you from?” He could tell Roderich had a faint accent, an accent similar to Gilbert's own, but he couldn't place it. 

Roderich scooted away from Gilbert and scowled. “Salzburg, initially.” 

“Oh,” Gilbert looked away and kicked his feet in the water, cause small splashes. “You're Austrian. I should have guessed with the music and all.” 

“Is that going to be a problem?” Roderich asked in a low voice. 

Gilbert snorted. “Why would it be? Don’t get so defensive, I'm just trying to get to know you and Erzsébet better.” 

Roderich gave him a skeptical look. “And you? Where are you from?” 

“Berlin.” Gilbert paused. “You know I used to play music too.” He just couldn't help but try to prop himself up in comparison to Roderich.

Roderich raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” he replied, impressed. 

“Yeah, I played flute for five years. I was pretty good at it too! I was principal several times in a row at school.” 

Roderich nodded, violet eyes twinkling in amusement. “That's funny, you don't  _ look _ like a flute player. Nor act like one.” 

Gilbert crossed his arms. “What's that supposed to mean?!” 

“I mean, flute players are rarely brash, full of themselves or high and mighty; they're usually pretty quiet, thoughtful, and kind. You're quite the opposite of the norm.” 

Gilbert bit down on his tongue to prevent himself from saying anything he would regret. Instead, he raised his left hand to push Roderich in the pool, but Roderich scoffed at him. 

“What? I angered you so you're going to push me in the water?” He shook his head. “You're such an overgrown playground bully, and frankly, it's  _ already  _ become predictable.” 

Gilbert turned away and groaned.  _ He’s lucky class is starting soon _ . Gilbert thought to himself.  _ This day just keeps getting better and better. First my roommate, now this pretentious jerkwad... _  Eventually, Gilbert slid into the water and haphazardly swam to the other corner, waiting for Erzsébet to give her orders. 

Before starting the class, Erzsébet stepped beside her boyfriend and gently instructed him to get in the water. She then clapped her hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Good afternoon, everyone!!” The class replied in a mundane tone. Erzsébet sighed; she wished the people who signed up for classes at the gym could at least act like they wanted to be there. “Today, we’ll be trying a swimming stroke that may be a little bit difficult for some of you. It’s the butterfly stroke.” 

The whole class groaned. 

“I promise that we’ll be working on this stroke for a while because I know it’s difficult. So we will have plenty of time to perfect it.” She looked around, searching for Gilbert amidst the crowd. “Where’s Gilbert?” 

“He’s over there, pouting in the corner,” Roderich answered drily.

“And you think  _ I’m  _ rude?!” Gilbert snapped. 

Roderich turned to him with his arms crossed. “ _ Very _ .” 

“ _ Wischer!! _ ” 

“Hey!!” Erzsébet shouted over them. “There will be no swearing in my class!” 

“Swearing? You thought  _ that  _ was swearing? I’m just getting started!” Gilbert replied, smugly. 

“It’s unnecessary, considering I need you to demonstrate the butterfly stroke.” 

Gilbert hesitated for a split second. “Isn’t that the thing where if you go back in time and kill a butterfly, humans would become extinct or something?” 

“That’s the butterfly  _ effect _ . We’re talking about the butterfly stroke.” 

Gilbert made a face; all he remembered from the swim classes his parents forced him to take and the occasional swim classes at school was the front crawl, backstroke, and breast stroke. He had no idea what a butterfly stroke looked like, nor even how to begin. Instead, he crossed his arms and hooked his hands together by his thumbs and waved his hands and fingers around as if it were a butterfly floating across the water. 

The whole class giggled, including Erzsébet, which made Gilbert grin confidently. 

“Okay, you managed to be cute for once,” Erzsébet said. Gilbert’s cheeks flushed pink for a moment as he lowered his arms back into the water in shock.  _ Cute _ ? “But seriously, we need to do the butterfly stroke.” 

Gilbert stared at her blankly. “That’s not really a thing, right?” 

Erzsébet frowned. “Alright, I guess I’ll demonstrate it.” Erzsébet continued to describe each move in great detail, with arm and leg motions to follow as she stood outside of the pool. Soon, she gracefully jumped into the water, without making a splash, and demonstrated how the stroke would look in the water. Eventually, she swam a whole lap without straying out of the lane, leaving the whole class awestruck by her flawless swimming. 

“Who’s ready to give it a try?” Erzsébet asked. 

At first, the class kept quiet, making the atmosphere uncomfortable. Soon, someone from the class spoke.

“I think Gilbert’s butterfly stroke looked easier.” 

The class laughed and Gilbert gave a smug look to Erzsébet. “See? They want to do it my way,” he gloated. 

“Except you forgot something; there was no swimming involved in your move,” Erzsébet replied smoothly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gilbert made a butterfly with his hands again and started splashing some water around. “You were saying?”  

The laughter from the class grew louder as Gilbert continued to play the clown of the afternoon. Erzsébet couldn’t help but laugh as well because it was just  _ so stupid _ . The only person who was  _ not  _ laughing was Roderich, who stood off to the side and shook his head. 

“Can we please get back to the lesson at hand?” Roderich asked, his annoyance apparent from across the pool. 

Gilbert froze and scowled.  _ Of course,  _ now _ the lazy bastard wants to actually do the lesson. _ Before he could say what was on his mind, Erzsébet stepped in. 

“We’ll get to it, Roderich,” she said. She took a deep breath to bring back her focus and sighed. “Now we all need to try the  _ real  _ butterfly stroke. Since he’s so full of energy, Gilbert, why don’t you try?” 

Hesitating, Gilbert moved over closer to Erzsébet. After staring blankly for a couple of seconds, he looked at her. “What do I do?” 

“Were you even paying attention?” she asked. 

“Yeah, you do the thing and then you do another thing and then you actually do the thing. I just forgot the order.” 

Erzsébet pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and sighed. “Just...give it your best shot, alright?” 

Gilbert looked around at the class and seeing that they were all waiting for him to go, Gilbert grumbled to himself and attempted the swim stroke. It wasn’t the coolest thing he’d ever done. In fact, it was the least graceful thing anyone had every witnessed. Gilbert somehow managed to basically launch himself out of the water for a brief second before landing back into the water with a great smack. The splash went everywhere, hitting the floor over to his left and to some of the class members. Quickly, Gilbert collected himself and stood up in the water, giving his classic grin to Erzsébet. 

“Did I do it?” he asked. 

Erzsébet stared at him, slightly in shock, before trying to stop herself from laughing. She eventually caved in and burst into laughter. “No! What  _ was  _ that?!” she laughed. “Oh my God, please do that again!” She snorted and put her hand over her mouth as she continued to giggle. 

“I didn’t think it was  _ that  _ funny,” Gilbert stated. “But if it makes you laugh, sure, I’ll do it again.” 

And so, being the class clown that he was, Gilbert proceeded to do his terrible rendition of a butterfly stroke several more times until he felt completely winded. Once he was stopped, Erzsébet’s laugh echoed against the tile room. Her laughter was so contagious that soon everyone, including Gilbert and Roderich, were laughing along with her. Eventually the laughter subsided and Erzsébet collected herself, holding her stomach. 

“I seriously don’t know how to recover from that,” Erzsébet said. Her giggles were still there as she spoke and wiped a small tear from her eye. “If you only knew how ridiculous you looked!” 

“Well I don’t know about ridiculous, but I’m sure it looked amazing!” Gilbert gloated. 

Roderich began hesitantly, “Laughter aside, I really think we should get back to the lesson--” 

“Looks like we’ve got another volunteer!” Gilbert shouted, raising his arms in the air. 

“W-wait, that’s not what--” 

Gilbert quickly swam over to where Roderich was and began pushing him towards the clear lane. “Come on now, it’s time to show us what you got, Mister Pretentious!” 

“Mister Preten---?!  _ Excuse  _ you!” 

Erzsébet pushed Gilbert away from her boyfriend defensively. “Look, you had your fun yesterday. You’re not about to do it again.” 

“What, are you saying you don’t think he can do it?” Gilbert taunted. 

“No, what I’m saying is that you aren’t going to pick on my boyfriend again!” Erzsébet turned to Roderich. “But, Roderich, unfortunately, you should try it.” 

“Erzsébet!” 

“Don’t worry, I would like some other volunteers to join you. Side by side. Okay?” She knew how self conscious Roderich could be, and to cause less drama in class, she figured she would try to make it so that no one would judge him. Erzsébet scanned the room and pointed to a random person. “Claudia? Would you mind trying it? Aaand...Isaiah? How about you as well?” 

The two class members reluctantly came over and to their positions in the other lanes. Soon, the three tried their best at the complicated stroke. They swam all the way to the opposite to the end of the pool and back. When they stood back up in the shallow end, they took a moment to catch their breath. 

Roderich, of course, was the last one to return. He went over the edge of the pool to lean against it and acted dramatically winded. 

“How the hell did you end up with such a fragile human being?” Gilbert asked, leaning in Erzsébet’s ear. 

Erzsébet moved away and glared at him, snapping, “He is  _ not  _ fragile.” 

“It just seems to me that you’ve got yourself together and he’s a hot mess,” Gilbert mocked. 

“He’s working on his physical strength, alright?” She crossed her arms. “You know, you wouldn’t be saying any of these things about him if you heard him play the piano. You would understand him so much better.” 

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “What is with people and musicians? Sure, they’re talented and can dedicate cute little songs to how much they love you, but there are other people around with so much more to offer.” 

“Is that so?” Erzsébet raised her eyebrows. She was simultaneously annoyed and intrigued by his outstanding confidence. “Let me guess, you’re saying  _ you’re  _ a better choice?” She snorted. “Somehow, I don’t think you have a convincing argument.” 

“Well I don’t think your argument that your boyfriend is worth you is very convincing.” 

“You’re bold, Gil _ bo _ ,” Erzsébet began to climb out of the pool from the ladder. She turned around to look down on him, pushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “At first, I found it annoying. Which, it still is annoying. But…” Her voice trailed off as a small smirk came upon her lips. “I'm starting to like it.” 

Gilbert smirked. “My charms are simply  _ irresistible _ .” 

Erzsébet rolled her eyes. “Listen, I want everyone here to try the butterfly stroke at least once. When everyone has gotten a chance, we can play whatever ridiculous game Gilbert comes up with.”

Roderich, who was still off to the side, was watching the interaction carefully. It took him a bit, but he soon realized what was going on. As Erzsébet walked past him, he clumsily climbed out of the pool and followed after her. 

“Erzsébet,” he called after her. He quickly grabbed her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. “Erzsébet, I know what you're thinking, okay? And my answer is a resounding no.” 

“What?” Erzsébet asked, confused. 

“Our talk? About our...our experiments?” 

“Yeah? What about?” 

“I'm saying no. To the person you're thinking of,” Roderich insisted.

Erzsébet thought for a second. “You think...I'm going to ask  _ Gilbert _ ?? Roderich, you know me better than that.” She looked over Roderich's shoulder to see Gilbert grabbing some random materials that had been laying on the side. “Sure, he’s  _ kind of  _ hot, but I wouldn't want to sleep with him.” She paused. “Well, maybe I’d want to put him in his place.” 

“And that's why I'm saying  _ no _ ,” Roderich repeated. 

Erzsébet laughed. “I hear you,” she said. She jokingly pushed Roderich's shoulder and began walking backwards. “At least, let me prove him wrong about you. Maybe you two could get along once he sees you perform. Besides, this whole act of his is a mask. The real Gilbert might actually be likable.” 

As Erzsébet walked away towards the locker room, Roderich heard the class suddenly cheer behind him. He turned to see Gilbert was tossing pool noodles and frisbees into the water. “I don't know where the balls went, but who wants to play Water Frisbee-ball?” Gilbert hollered. 

“That's not a thing!” Roderich shouted. 

Gilbert cackled at him. “It is now,  _ sucker _ !” 

There was no way Roderich would ever give that man a chance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, Roderich, I think you'll learn to like him. 
> 
> Hey guys, so I wanted to let you guys know that because of the holidays, or rather, the holidays' eves, this fic will take a little bit of a break. I apologize for the break, but after the expected and some unexpected stress that I've had the past month, I kind of want a break? We will return to posting weekly in the New Year! 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! If there are any errors, please let me know. Feel free to leave a comment and/or a critique! Always looking to improve! 
> 
> See you soon! 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia) and Ellie (TheCrystalFalls)


	7. Business Partners

“It’ll need a bit of cleaning, but, I’ll take it.” 

Ludwig and his realtor stood in the center of the empty club, ready to make a deal. Poor Ludwig still had no idea what he would do with the club. The obvious answer was to revamp the club into something new, but  _ what _ ? Ludwig had never been someone who was constantly thinking about sex, or was a sexual person to begin with. Sure, he  _ explored  _ himself a couple of times, but it was only because he was bored and had nothing else to do. Plus, no matter how many times he looked at pictures of women, it didn’t seem to excite him. 

But, you didn’t have to be that into what you were selling to be successful. Right? 

“Yeah, it needs cleaning alright,” John said. He sniffed and rubbed his nose. “Just a suggestion, though, don’t do the cleaning with a blacklight.” 

Ludwig grimaced. He already was aware that a place like this would be absolutely filthy, he didn’t need a reminder. “Do we have a deal?” he asked. 

John gave a signature businessman grin. “Of course we have a deal! You have the money, correct?” 

“Yes,” Ludwig said, pulling out his checkbook. “The payment is still what we had discussed, right?” 

“Of course,” John stated. 

Ludwig ripped the check he had already written out of the book, handing it to the realtor. “I would like to thank you for helping me find somewhere to start a business,” he added. 

Content with his big paycheck, John nodded and his grin widened into a cheesy smile. “Mind if I ask you what you’re going to do with the place?” 

Ludwig hesitated. “I’m still working some of that out, but, I’ll probably revamp the place,” he answered thoughtfully. “I have some money...I can probably renovate some things. Here and there, you know?” 

John nodded and sniffed. “Well, let me know when you open, ‘kay? I’d be interested in checking it out.” He gave a wink before he turned around to the exit, leaving Ludwig alone in the vacant club. 

Ludwig sighed and leaned against the old bar counter. Pushing aside the thought of how disgusting it must be, he groaned. “You got yourself into this mess, now it’s time to think, Ludwig,” he muttered to himself. “You have to think, otherwise, you’ve wasted your money away.” 

His idea had to come quick, or else he would be in a serious amount of debt. 

 

**_Bellisima’s_ ** was bustling with frantic energy during a lunchtime rush no one had expected. The restaurant hadn’t been this frantic during lunch time since the restaurant had first opened when Feliciano was still a teenager. It was a shock that the place was so busy, but Feliciano, always optimistic and looking for tips, wasn’t complaining about it.

“ _ Buongiorno e benvenuto  _ to  **_Bellisima’s_ ** ; can I get the five of you something to drink?” Feliciano asked. 

The five businessmen did not answer him at first, as they were still carrying on their conversation and ignored the Italian waiter. However, in a couple of seconds, they all turned to Feliciano and requested a pitcher of water. With a nod, Feliciano took mental note of it and hurried off to the kitchen to get it. As he was filling up the pitcher, he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned around to see Lovino standing beside him, dropping dirty dishes into the sink. 

“Your Buff Hottie is here,” Lovino said, in Italian. 

A grin immediately came over Feliciano’s lips. “Really?” he responded in Italian. 

“ _ Sì _ ,” Lovino replied. He snatched a rag to wipe off some excess pasta sauce that had gotten on his hands from the dirty plates. “He’s sitting at Table 6. That’s  _ technically  _ my area today, but I’ll be nice and let you cover his table. Got it?” 

“Aw, thank you so much, Lovi!” Feliciano was somewhat surprised by his brother’s sudden kind gesture. Typically, Lovino did not like to give Feliciano the extra work in his area. But given he wanted to give Feliciano a fair shot to see if he could “seduce” the “Buff Hottie,” he was being kind. 

Feliciano started walking to the exit, carrying the pitcher of water. “Then I will drop this off and check in on Ludwig.” 

Lovino snorted. “Ludwig? That’s his name?” He chuckled. “What a dumb name.” 

Feliciano left the kitchen, ignoring his brother’s comment. He gently set the pitcher of water on the table where the five businessmen were, took their orders and went over to where Ludwig was sitting. 

Ludwig was hunched over the table, looking through some files that he had brought with him. It looked like he was waiting for someone to show up, perhaps for some kind of interview. Of course, Feliciano was curious, but he wasn’t going to ask. 

Yet, anyway. 

“ _ Ciao _ , Ludwig!” Feliciano greeted. 

Ludwig glanced and gave a small smile. “Hello, Feliciano. How are you today?” 

“I’m great!” Feliciano answered, bubbly. “Do you mind if I ask you why you’re here today?” 

“Oh...well, it’s sort of a business meeting, but also a job interview,” he explained. “I recently bought a place and I need to quickly hire some workers to get it running.” 

After only a moment’s hesitation, Feliciano sat down across from Ludwig, crossing his legs underneath the table. “Did you buy that old storefront a couple blocks from here?” 

Ludwig looked away. “Um, no. That old...gen--”

“Gentlemen’s Club? Seriously?” Feliciano couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t take you for...one of those people.” 

“It wasn’t what I had in mind.” Ludwig put his face in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. “I was hoping to buy the storefront you referred to, but someone grabbed it before I had the chance to truly make up my mind.” 

“Oh no.” Feliciano frowned. “That’s too bad.” He remembered before he and Lovino moved in with their grandfather, all of the overheard stories about the difficulties of buying real estate and starting a business. He couldn’t really fathom what it had to feel like having an initial plan and then having to start all over again would feel like. “So...the job interview? Who is it for?” 

“For a lack of a better term...a  _ dancer _ ,” Ludwig answered, looking back down at his files. “I figure my best route to take is probably a revamp of the club entirely.” 

Feliciano grimaced; he was never really good at masking what he was thinking through facial expressions. “Ooor, you could try something different. I mean, there’s a  _ reason  _ why that old club went out of business. Actually, there are  _ several  _ reasons. If you make it how it used to be, it  _ probably  _ won’t be well received.” 

“What happened, exactly?” Ludwig asked. 

Feliciano made another face, leaning back in his seat. “ _ Well _ , there were a lot of scummy guys who used to go there. Like,  _ old  _ scummy guys,” he began. “Then, rumors went around that a lot of drug deals went on there...some human trafficking...it wasn’t a good place.” 

“Was it all true?” 

Feliciano sighed. “Unfortunately.” 

Ludwig sat quiet for a few moments. “I’ve bought a cursed place, didn’t I? That’s why it was so cheap.” 

“No, no! Don’t think of it  _ that  _ way!” Feliciano twisted his fingers around. “You can  _ totally _ turn that place around. Have you ever considered maybe opening a place for a younger crowd? Or something?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“For people like us! Something that young people will gravitate to, to meet  _ other _ people.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

Feliciano took a deep breath. “Okay, well...how about a ga--”

“Feli!!” 

Lovino was standing at the table, towering over his brother (for once) with his arms crossed. “Don’t you have  _ work  _ to do?” he hissed. 

Feliciano quickly stood up. “ _ Mi dispiace, mi dispiace _ ,” he apologized. “Ludwig, could I get you started with a drink?” 

“Don’t worry about that!” Lovino interrupted. “You got an order from a table ten minutes ago! You need to put that in!” 

“But--” 

“ _ I’ll _ take his drink order,” Lovino added, switching to Italian. “Do what you’re  _ supposed  _ to be doing.  _ Idiota _ .” 

Disappointed, Feliciano scurried away as he heard his brother put on his best face to take the drink order from Ludwig. After dropping the previous order off in the kitchen, Feliciano emerged from the kitchen to tend to the other customers. 

As he gave dish after dish, Feliciano noticed that the person Ludwig was waiting for had arrived. It was a woman dressed in a faux fur coat and stilettos. A very short skirt with a fraying hem could be seen at the end of the coat, but disappeared as she sat down. Ludwig looked shocked to see that she would be so bold to dress like that in the daylight. Even Feliciano was surprised; of course, a woman could dress as she liked, but decency was to be assumed of every individual, right?

Feliciano hesitated in his return to table 6; he had no idea what part of the conversation he would walk into. However, he had to bring Ludwig’s drink order, as Feliciano procrastinated for ten minutes.

“Your glass of Riesling,” Feliciano mumbled as he slid the wine glass in front of Ludwig. He turned to the woman. “Can I get you anything to drink, ma’am?”

The woman let out a heavy, gurgly cough. It was clear she had a cold. “No, I’m good,” she answered at first. She then thought for a moment. “You got mimosas?”

“Um, well, we only serve those at brunch, ma’am. Brunch is only on Sundays.” Feliciano explained.

She scoffed. “But it’s alcohol, innit? I want a mimosa,” she repeated, her heavy cockney accent coming through.

“We can give you a glass of wine, if you’d like,” Feliciano said. He grabbed the small cocktail menu that sat next to Ludwig. “We have a cocktail menu as well. We have a new bartender who should be showing up momentarily…” He was taught from a young age that you were to always be respectful to women, even if they were rude to you.

“Horse shit,” the woman hissed. “I said I want a mimosa, and that’s what I’ll be gettin’.”

Feliciano took a deep breath.  _ Puttana,  _ he thought to himself. “We only serve mimosas at brunch.”

“Hey, you,” the woman pointed at Ludwig. “What time is it?”

Ludwig pulled out his cellphone to check the time. “1:59?”

“Right, still a perfect time for a fuckin’ mimosa.”

Ludwig gave her a skeptical look. “Not…really?”

Feliciano smirked slightly at the lady’s glare and brought his attention back to Ludwig with a big smile. “Have you decided what you would like to order?” he asked, ignoring the woman.

“Ah, yes,” Ludwig said. He leaned back and opened his menu, flipping through the pages to find the exact dish he wanted. “Could I have the Creamy Tuscan Chicken?”

Feliciano scribbled the order down on his notepad and glanced at the woman. “And for you, ma’am?”

“Two mimosas,” she answered, rubbing her nose.

“We currently do not serve mimosas at this time,” Feliciano said, as patiently as he possibly could.

“Well make an exception for me, would you?”

Feliciano closed his notepad with a loud, frustrated slap and held it by his waist. He drew in a quick breath. “Let me get my brother for you,” he said softly. “Hold on for just a moment.”

Growing up in the same household, Feliciano never needed to let his anger control his actions when Lovino was around. Lovino  _ always  _ knew how to convey whatever Feliciano was thinking without him actually telling him. If needed, Feliciano  _ could  _ be firm and stern.

But he didn’t particularly like being angry, unlike Lovino.

Feliciano barged into the kitchen, searching for his brother. Thankfully, Lovino was placing dishes on his tray.

Feliciano tapped his brother on the shoulder. “We have a problem.”

Lovino glared at him. “With  _ what _ ?” he hissed. “What did you do?”

“It wasn’t something  _ I  _ did,” Feliciano replied. “A customer wants a mimosa—“

“We don’t make mimosas past one,” Lovino interjected.

“ _ Exactly _ . She won’t  _ listen  _ to me. Table 6.” 

Lovino groaned and nodded. “Got it. Give me a minute and I’ll deal with it.”

“ _ Grazie mille _ ,” Feliciano sighed with relief as his brother walked away. When in doubt, let Lovino deal with a rude customer. 

Feliciano posted Ludwig’s order for the cooks to see and peeked out of the door to watch Lovino handle the situation at hand. At first, Lovino approached the woman politely, with his charming smile. The woman didn’t seem to be keen of Lovino’s charm, as she said the exact same thing to him as she did to Feliciano, in the exact same pointed tone. Feliciano could tell that Lovino’s temper was slowly starting to show, and in any minute, it would reach its boiling point and erupt. 

Which it did. 

“If you don’t like it, then go ahead and find the door, why don’t you?!” Lovino shouted. 

“That’s quite rude of you to say to a paying customer!!” the woman hissed as she stood up. 

“Actually,  _ I’m  _ paying…” Ludwig chimed in, trying to keep the situation calm. 

“Look, when you walk into this restaurant, we expect that you respect us! If you don’t, we’ll throw whatever you throw right back at you!” Lovino continued. Every customer was now staring at the two of them arguing. Feliciano finally stepped out of the kitchen to  _ hopefully  _ push his brother away. 

“Lovi, people are staring,” Feliciano whispered. 

“They can stare at my bare ass for all I care!” Lovino snapped. He turned back to the woman. “What’s it going to be, huh? You leaving or staying?” 

“Can’t we just make  _ one  _ exception?” Ludwig pleaded. “What’s one mimosa?” 

“We make one exception for her, we have to make exceptions for everyone else!” Lovino poked Ludwig’s chest. “Stay out of this, beef boy!” 

“Beef boy?” 

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” the woman huffed under her breath. “I have  _ never  _ been to a restaurant so rude in my life! I will  _ never  _ come back!” 

As she began to walk out of the restaurant, Lovino shouted after her: “Good! We deserve better business!” The door slammed shut and Lovino took a deep breath to calm himself down. He folded his hands together and turned to the rest of the customers. “Our sincerest apologies, everyone. We will deduct 10% on your bill for the inconvenience. Please, enjoy your meal.” 

Lovino turned, bumped into his brother, slung an insult at him as he went back to the kitchen. Feliciano sighed with relief and glanced at Ludwig. “U-um, sorry about that,” he apologized. “Your meal is on the house, Ludw--” 

“No, that won’t be needed,” Ludwig replied. “She was...something else. I apologize that she behaved that way.” 

Feliciano gave a hesitant smile. “At least you know it wasn’t a good match,” he said, laughing nervously. “L-let me see if your order is ready.” He sauntered off to the kitchen, feeling slightly embarrassed about the situation.  _ Why can’t things just work out like they normally do? _ He thought to himself. Flirting with someone he liked and getting them to be interested back never went  _ this wrong _ . There always seemed to be  _ something  _ preventing Feliciano from casting his spell on Ludwig. Sometimes it was Ludwig’s own cluelessness or Feli messing things up...this time it was just bad luck. 

A cook placed Ludwig’s meal on top of a shelf and ringed the bell. Feliciano quickly grabbed it and carried it out to the waiting German. “Again, I’m so, so, sorry about that fuss earlier,” he said, placing the plate on the table. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Feliciano.” Ludwig moved the plate to be in the center and carefully set the silverware perfectly next to the dish. “Before you go,” he added. “Could I talk to you briefly?” 

Nervous, Feliciano nodded. “Sure; what about?” 

Ludwig gestured to invite Feliciano to sit back down. Feli glanced around the restaurant to be sure his brother wasn’t around at the moment before sitting down. “You seem like you have ideas about the club,” Ludwig began. 

“I do?” Feliciano asked. 

“Yes, ideas that I don’t really have. So I was wondering if, perhaps, you’d like to work together?” 

Shocked, Feliciano stared at Ludwig blankly.  _ Ideas?? From me???  _ Feli thought. Hesitant, Feliciano swallowed and grinned. “Sure! I’m not much of a business person, but I can try my best!” 

“Of course you’re a business person; you’re the head of this restaurant, aren’t you?” 

Feliciano shook his head. “It’s my  _ nonno _ ’s restaurant. He had back surgery a bit ago and is still in recovery. I’m just...making sure the place doesn’t burn down. You know?” 

“But he put  _ you  _ in charge for a reason, correct?” Ludwig presson further. “Not your brother.” 

“I...I guess,” Feliciano’s smiled widened. 

“So you’re a business person who can probably help me with the club, right?”

“Yeeeah.” 

“Plus, you’re a dancer, if I recall?” 

“Mm-hm!!” 

Ludwig smiled. “I think we’d make good business partners in the nightclub business.” 

Feliciano drummed on the table in excitement. “Sounds like a plan!!” he cheered. “When’s the first meeting?” 

“Well, we could meet tomorr--”

“FELI!!” 

Feliciano quickly jumped up to his feet and started walking backwards to go tend to another customer. “We’ll figure it out, Luddy! Enjoy your meal!” he hollered. 

“ _ Please  _ don’t call me that,” Ludwig protested. 

But it didn’t matter, Feliciano hadn’t heard him. Feliciano had returned to the kitchen feeling triumphant. 

He was  _ finally _ getting somewhere. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, hello!! We're back from Holiday Hiatus! Sorry this is a bit late! I hope all of you had a wonderful holiday and New Year! Did you miss the story? Did you get to read the bonus chapter we added to London is Burning? :) 
> 
> Good job, Feli! You finally were able to make some progress with Ludwig! Gilbert told you he'd come around ;) We're also on our way with the birth of Atomica! I wonder what antics could happen....?
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please feel free to leave a comment or a critique down below! We read all of the comments and we do our very best to reply to them! Thank you all for the support! 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia) and Ellie (TheCrystalFalls)


	8. Spring Cleaning

Gilbert woke up to his phone ringing at an ungodly hour. He rolled over to his side to swipe his cellphone off of his bedside table and answered. “Luddy, why the  _ fuck _ are you calling me at 4am?!” he groaned. 

“I need your help with something and the only time we  _ both  _ are available is in the morning.” 

“You couldn’t have warned me first?” Gilbert asked, irritated. “What do you need me for?” 

“I bought that old gentleman’s club--” 

Gilbert cackled. “Bold choice.” 

“--And the first thing I need to do is to clean the place. Considering that the two of us are the most mysophobic neat freaks I’ve ever known, how soon can you get here?” 

“You’re assuming that I’m available, Luddy,” Gilbert said. He threw the blankets off of himself and wandered around in the dark to find the light. He stubbed his toe against the dresser and bit down hard on his tongue not to let out a yelp.

“It’s 4am, Gilbert. What could you  _ possibly  _ be doing at 4am?” 

“Cleaning another grungy ass club, apparently.” 

“Can you be here or not?” 

And so, after getting dressed as quickly as possible, Gilbert was off to help his brother clean some business building that, if he was honest with himself, was probably going to flop. Ludwig was an excellent business student, but he spent his time in college hitting the books, not the nightlife, and consequently he didn’t know the first thing about the business he was taking on. Gilbert wasn't sure  _ why  _ his usually risk-averse brother would do this, but there they were. 

When Gilbert showed up to the club, he was greeted by his brother who was wearing a makeshift hazmat suit. 

“What? Is there toxic waste inside?” Gilbert asked. 

“Come inside and I'll show you,” Ludwig replied, his voice muffled by the mask he was wearing. 

“You better have one for me if it's that nasty in there,” 

As they stepped into the club, Gilbert was surprised to see that the place was completely empty. “Luddy,  _ please _ tell me why we're cleaning an empty place,” Gilbert drawled. 

Ludwig wandered over to one of the sides of the club and put his hand on the light switches. “The realtor that sold this place to me told me not to look around with a black light,” Ludwig explained. He turned the lights off and a black light on, revealing how truly dirty the club was. Gilbert suppressed a scream. “Unfortunately, I discovered that the whole place has this feature. And now I can't get this image out of my head.” 

“Ludwig I swear to God if you don't have a suit for me--” 

Ludwig picked up a plastic bag with a hazmat suit in it. “Calm down, I wouldn't invite you here if I didn't have one.” 

Gilbert snatched the bag from his brother and quickly put it on over his clothes. “You're lucky I'm the best damn cleaner in the world, Luddy. And that I'm your brother, otherwi--” 

“ _ Ja, ja _ , you wouldn't be doing this.  _ Ich weiß _ .” He threw a rag and a bottle of bleach to Gilbert. “Now shut up and clean.” 

 

The two brothers spent the whole morning cleaning the main flooring around the bar and the dance floor. Sweaty from the cheap, plastic hazmat suit and exhausted, Gilbert wished to go home and shower as soon as possible. But, by the time Ludwig agreed to stop for the day, it was time for both of them to clock in at the gym for work. Of course, Ludwig was prepared for this, and had not only packed his work clothes for himself, but he also had a spare set for Gilbert to borrow. 

Leaving Ludwig’s car behind at the club, Gilbert let Ludwig join him for the short ride to work. Wanting to annoy his brother for making him wake up at an ungodly hour, Gilbert began badgering his brother about his social life. 

“So, that Italian guy...the one who works at  **_Bellisima’s_ ** with Antonio?” Gilbert started. “You two hang out yet?” 

“No,” Ludwig answered. He shot a glare at his brother; he didn’t understand why his brother kept pressing this. “But he seems to have a lot of ideas when it comes to the club. I don’t know anything about dancers and activities...so we’re actually will be discussing things and working together.” 

Gilbert smirked.  _ Atta boy, Feliciano _ , he cheered silently. “Ahh, you’ll be business partners then? Interesting,” he said, trying not to laugh. “You know he likes you, right?” 

“Of course; he wouldn’t agree to working with me if he didn’t at least tolerate me.” 

Gilbert wanted to bang his head on the steering wheel; his brother was so  _ clueless  _ sometimes, or he was just playing dumb. He suspected the latter. “No, I mean, he  _ likes  _ you.” 

“Yes, as business partners.” 

“ _ Nee _ , Luddy. Like, he’s attracted to you!” 

Ludwig pondered over this for a minute, looking out the window before disagreeing. “That’s preposterous.” 

“How so?” Gilbert glanced over at his brother. “Clearly there’s something mutual between the two of you if you want to work together without being friends for long.” 

“He seems like a smart guy,” Ludwig explained flatly. “I would be dumb to  _ not  _ work with a smart guy.” 

Gilbert was skeptical, but he let the debate go for now. He acknowledged the fact that his brother was content with being alone and was naturally independent, but he didn’t want Ludwig to end up feeling the way he felt every day, because of his own dumb choices. It seemed to be a Beilschmidt trait to push people away. In more ways than one, he saw himself in his brother, and he didn’t always like what he saw.

Then again, Ludwig was even more hopeless than himself when it came to relationships.

There had been too many times where Gilbert had watched multiple girls (and some boys) fawn over Ludwig when he was a teenager. Everyone seemed to notice Ludwig’s looks and were immediately charmed, but Ludwig himself thought nothing of it. There had even been moments where Gilbert teased his brother when he saw that someone had a crush on him; Ludwig never seemed to be interested. 

“I see Katrina  _ likes  _ you!” 

“Really? That’s dumb.” 

Then there was: 

“Wow, Luddy, Sabrina has a big crush on you, doesn’t she? You gonna ask her out?” 

“Why would I do that?” 

When it came to any potential romance in Ludwig’s life, he dismissed it.  _ I wish I could have that luxury _ ,  _ of being alone and just not caring, _ Gilbert thought with a level of bitterness that surprised himself. 

They turned into the parking lot of the gym and Gilbert expertly backed into a parking spot. As the two brothers walked into the gym, Gilbert noticed that Erzsébet and Roderich were pulling into the parking lot as well. He couldn’t help but smirk.  _ My two favorite people _ . 

“Tell me you’re going to be good today,” Ludwig muttered under his breath. 

“I’m  _ always  _ good,” Gilbert replied. 

“Don’t go around ruining people’s workouts or relationships,” Ludwig opened the door and stepped inside, holding the brother for his brother. “Leave Erzsébet and Roderich alone.” 

“Erzsébet seemed to be pretty into me the other day.” 

Ludwig raised his eyebrows and responded drily. “Was she now?” 

Gilbert frowned. “Don’t rain on my parade with your pessimism.” They wandered through the gym to the locker room to drop off their belongings. “She actually  _ laughed  _ at me and called me cute.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Ludwig sighed. He took off the shirt he was initially wearing and put on a clean shirt that had the gym’s label on it. “You’re far from cute.” 

“Well, I'm not trying to impress you, am I?” 

Ludwig groaned again and the two brothers went their separate ways for their working hours. Class after class, Ludwig quickly regretted his decision to wake up early in the morning to clean the old club. He grew more and more tired as the day went by, and he hoped that he was going to make it through work. 

It was soon time for the last class of the day. Ludwig leaned against a machine and began counting down the minutes until it was over. 

“Good afternoon, Ludwig!!” 

Somewhat startled, Ludwig looked up to see Feliciano standing in front of him with a bright smile. He looked kind of dorky standing there, in an old t-shirt and gym shorts (that were not tight or bright red). It was sort of...adorable. 

Ludwig chuckled. “Hello, Feliciano. Aren't you supposed to be working at the restaurant today?” 

“Well, I pulled some strings to take the evening off! So, we can workout together  _ and  _ have a meeting about the business!” Feliciano explained. He was bouncing on his tippy toes, never one to hide his excitement. 

“That's great, Feli,” Ludwig replied. “But, you  _ do  _ know that today is a weight training day? Yoga is tomorrow.” 

Feliciano hesitated. “I was actually thinking of dancing again,” he began. “It's been a few years, so I think by combining some yoga and weight training will get me back in shape!” 

“That does sound like a good plan,” Ludwig agreed. “Just know that the weight training can be a bit intense.” 

Feliciano gave a thumbs up. “I can handle it!” 

“Good, then why don't you take a seat and the class will start in a few minutes.” 

 

Feliciano could not handle the intensity of weight training class. 

Not only were the weights  _ really _ ,  _ really _ heavy, he didn't have much stamina to use the machines for any length of time. Feliciano tried keeping up with the rest of the class when they started lifting smaller weights. But the dumbbells kept getting heavier and heavier, and soon he couldn’t lift a single dumbbell without falling over. 

“Feli,” Ludwig stated. He was standing beside Feliciano and gently took the dumbbell away from him. “You should really start small. Everyone else has been in the class for a long time and have the strength to keep up.” 

“Oh, I don’t want to feel left out!” Feliciano said. He reached for the dumbbell but Ludwig took a step back. 

“I don't want to to hurt yourself.” He put the weight back on the rack and grabbed a smaller one. “There's no shame in being behind; we all have our own pace.” 

Feliciano smiled and looked down at his hands. They were red from the hard work, and he could feel that calluses were developing. “Do you think I should try one of those lifting machine thingies?” 

Ludwig looked in the direction of where Feliciano pointed and shrugged. “I suppose you could give it a try,” he answered. “Do you know how to work it?” 

“Oh  _ sì, sì, sì _ ! They’re all self explanatory, right?” Feliciano began wandering over to the machine. “A moron can figure it out, right?” As Feliciano stood next to the weight lifting machine, he suddenly realized that it looked much smaller from far away. Feliciano was around the average height for a man, maybe a  _ tiny  _ bit shorter, but he was also fairly small. In comparison to all of the bodybuilders in the rest of the class, he was  _ tiny _ . 

The machine was intimidating, and Feliciano stared at it for a few moments until he switched around the weights so that he would be able to use it with success. Feliciano reached up to pull down the lever, and it was too light and too easy.  _ I’m stronger than I thought _ . He fiddled around with the weights again. With each pump, Feliciano felt that it was all too easy and kept increasing the amount of weights. Soon, he skipped over several where the indicator was closer to the floor (meaning that it was  _ very  _ heavy). 

With one small tug, the lever didn’t budge. So ultimately, Feliciano tried again, this time with a little more force. Again, the lever did not budge. Determined to accomplish the challenge he had set before himself, Feliciano squatted down and jumped up to use all of his body weight to pull the lever down. 

It worked, but only for a second. 

The weights of the machine pulled Feliciano back up into the air where he nearly hit his head against the metal bars above him. The jerky motion made Feliciano’s hands slip from the lever and down to the floor he fell. He landed with a thud and he was dazed from what happened. Staring up at the ceiling, Feliciano was trying to process everything that had just happened in the matter of seconds. 

Soon, he was greeted by bright blue eyes, filled with concern. 

“Are you hurt?” Ludwig asked. 

“Nope!” Feliciano answered, chipper as ever. “I didn’t feel a thing!!” 

Ludwig didn’t seem to buy Feliciano’s claim. He offered a hand to help the Italian get back on his feet and looked around to locate the first aid kit. “You’re sure you’re not hurt?” he asked again. 

Feliciano nodded; it was true he hadn’t felt a thing, but that was due to the adrenaline pumping through his body. He knew fully that in a few minutes, he’d be sore all over. “Don’t worry; once you get to know me, you’ll get used to me tripping over myself all the time!” 

Feliciano could tell that Ludwig still wasn’t convinced, but soon Ludwig walked away to help call the class back together since time was winding down to an end. One by one, the class gathered back around and soon, everyone grabbed their belongings and left. Feliciano, however, stayed behind. He paced back and forth, waiting or Ludwig to turn around after wiping down the mats and weight lifting machines. 

“Hey, uh, Ludwig?” he asked. “I was wondering if you’d like to go somewhere to have a brief meeting to brainstorm?” 

Ludwig turned around and tossed the paper towel he was using into the garbage can nearby. “Yeah, that sounds good. Would you be okay with a quick dinner before I show you the club?” 

“Sure!” Feliciano agreed with a big smile. “I know a Chinese restaurant nearby, if you’re up for it? They have really good...um, well, everything!” 

Ludwig smiled. “That sounds good; just give me a few minutes. I have to wash off and then I’ll be ready.” 

“No problem! I should probably wash off too,” Feliciano replied. 

The two men stepped into the locker room, carrying on a casual conversation. 

 

After having dinner, the two men got into Feliciano’s car and drove to the club Ludwig was desperately trying to turn into a business. Ludwig opened the door and let Feliciano step into the empty building first. Feliciano spun around a couple of times, admiring how big the facility was. 

“Wow! This had to of been  _ super  _ expensive, right?” 

“It was in the middle,” Ludwig answered. He put his hands in his pockets. “It still needs some cleaning, but I think the sooner we get some ideas, the better.” 

“It still needs cleaning?” Feliciano looked around again. “It looks pretty clean to me! When did you do the cleaning?” 

Ludwig yawned. “Early this morning; Gilbert, thankfully, helped.” Ludwig briefly imagined the torture his brother was putting Erzsébet and Roderich through, then chose not to think about it. “Why don’t we have a seat at the bar? There’s no drinks, unfortunately.” 

Feliciano laughed and hopped onto a bar stool. “So, how raunchy do you want this place to be?” he joked around. 

“What?!”

“Oh you know, a club is usually pretty raunchy. Topless women, pantless men, drugs…”

“There will be no drugs in my club,” Ludwig scowled. 

“Well, I mean...okay.” Feliciano wiped his hands on his pants. “Will this be a place for everyone? Or is mainly for a specific gender?” 

“Well, if we keep it open to everyone, then we’ll make more money, right?” Ludwig folded his hands on top of the counter. “But tell me what your ideas are.” 

“I was thinking of something along the lines of…” Feliciano hesitated; since Ludwig was  _ so  _ dense when it came to flirting, Feliciano didn’t know how  _ obvious  _ he was allowed to be. “Something that would appeal to the both of us.” 

“Um…”

“For example,” Feliciano continued. “I’m a dancer, so we could have...dancers on stage? Or on the side. I could participate too!” 

“Right…”

“And we’ll have specials, like different performers. Like drag queens, maybe some comedians?” 

“Are you saying we should make this a gay bar?” 

Feliciano answered with a hesitant nod. “You’re not uncomfortable with that, are you?” 

“Not at all,” Ludwig said, tapping the bar counter. “As long as it’s successful.” 

Feliciano slid off of the bar stool. It was time to put something to the test. “So...if I dance by that pole over there, you wouldn’t mind?” 

“We haven’t cleaned those yet so...you probably shouldn’t,” Ludwig argued. 

Feliciano didn’t listen as he climbed onto the stage and stomped on the old wood that was there. It would need to be replaced, as it was warped and  _ extremely  _ rickety. “You wanna see what kind of dances I can do?” he asked with a grin. 

Ludwig hesitated. “Sure?” 

“Great!! It’s been awhile, so forgive me if I’m clumsy!” 

Several dances were then displayed on stage by Feliciano; he first started with tap dancing (which was pretty sloppy in Feli’s book) and as he continued to show off in the best way he could, each dance became a little more sensual. Ludwig didn’t seemed to be phased by the sensuality.  _ Does  _ anything  _ make this guy blush? _ Feliciano wondered. He made his way over to one of the old dancing poles and finally got a reaction out of Ludwig. 

Except it was the wrong one. 

Ludwig stood up. “Don’t touch that! It’s not clea--” 

“I’ll wash my hands,” Feliciano assured. He hesitated for a split second; he didn’t know what he wanted to do.  _ People swing around this like monkeys, right? _ He asked himself. Jumping onto the pole, he awkwardly tried to swing around but it was a complete failure. 

Of course they  _ both  _ knew that it was dirty, but neither of them knew that it was old and would immediately bend. 

The screw that held it in place pulled out of the wooden floor and while he was in mid-air, Feliciano started to fall along with the pole. Thankfully, Ludwig had quickly reflexes and managed to run over to catch Feliciano before he hit the floor. Feliciano had long since let go of it, and so when Ludwig had caught him, they were out of the way as the metal bar fell with a loud bang onto the floor. 

It was silent for a moment, as both Ludwig and Feliciano tried to process everything that had just happened. Ludwig was confused as ever as to why Feliciano would do something so  _ dumb  _ and nearly get himself hurt. And Feliciano was...well, ecstatic that Ludwig was carrying him. 

“You have really quick reflexes, don’t you?” Feliciano asked. He made direct eye contact with Ludwig, just like the first time they met. The only difference was this time, it all finally dawned on Ludwig as to what was happening. 

His face turned completely red as he set Feliciano back down on his feet and hurried away. He cleared his throat. “Y-you should be more careful,” he stated with his back to Feliciano. “So, um, if we make this a gay bar, we should have a drag queen in house, right? That’s...that’s how it works, right?” 

“I think so!” Feliciano paused. “The only problem is, I don’t know any drag queens! Do you know any?” 

“No,” Ludwig quickly answered. “But we’ll advertise for it. Or ask around. I uh, just remembered that I have to do something back at home. I think my water bill is...overdue. Can we continue this another time?” 

Feliciano frowned and restrained the urge to roll his eyes. He knew  _ exactly  _ what was happening here. He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet. “Of course,” he agreed. “I don’t think I have your number, though. That’s why I came to the gym to--” 

“We’ll exchange numbers now,” Ludwig added, pulling out his cellphone. After making sure they both had each other’s phone numbers and Ludwig kindly calling a cab for Feli, they went their separate ways for the evening. 

When Feliciano arrived home, he quietly climbed up the stairs and sat down on his bed, pouting.  _ I guess Lovino is going to win this bet after all _ . 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I must apologize AGAIN for the tardiness for the update. I had major writer's block for this chapter, and Ellie and I both decided it would be best to delay the update until we were both content. Hopefully, we'll be back on schedule next week. However, I think I'm going to say that we'll try to post weekly at least. 
> 
> I think Ludwig's finally realized it...what do you think? YOU CAN'T RUN AWAY FROM YOURSELF LUDWIG. Also, a drag queen? Don't we know a drag queen? Somewhere? Hm. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Feel free to comment below! We read all comments and try to reply to all of them! Thank you for your support!! 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia) and Ellie (TheCrystalFalls)


	9. A Lovely Evening for a Concert

While Ludwig and Feliciano had finished the weight training class and gone to dinner, Erzsébet was also wrapping up the last swimming class for the day. After showering off in the locker room and putting on a nice dress for the evening, she glanced over at her purse. Inside, she knew she had two tickets to Roderich’s concert for the evening; one for herself and one for someone who would be interested. 

Erzsébet had no idea who that someone would be. No one at the gym would be interested in seeing a (stuffy) classical concert, and she didn’t really have any other friends who would join her. 

Roderich had come to the earlier class that afternoon so he could go home and get ready. He had texted her that he made reservations at a restaurant for three, so whoever was joining her for the concert could dine with them as well. 

As Erzsébet walked out of the locker room, she rummaged through her purse, double checking for the  _ sixth  _ time in a row that the tickets were still there. She accidentally bumped into someone as she was distracted. Glancing up, she groaned; of  _ course  _ it had been Gilbert. 

“Sorry, Gilbo. I’m running a bit behind right now,” she muttered, moving past him. 

“Didn’t Roddy leave early?” Gilbert asked, smugly. 

She made a face. “Don’t call him that!” she said. “Yes, he had to go home ‘cause he has a concert tonight. I’m supposed to meet him at a restaurant for dinner.” 

Gilbert nodded, spinning his car keys around on his finger. “Hm, yeah, and how’re you going to do that?” 

“By  _ walking _ .” 

“Hm, wouldn’t it be easier if someone gave you a ride?” 

Erzsébet turned around to glare at him. “You are the last person on  _ earth  _ I would want to ride with.” 

Gilbert snorted and started to laugh. Erzsébet’s glare grew more intense. 

“Don’t be immature,” she scolded. She looked around the gym. “Why are you even waiting around? You drove here by yourself, didn’t you?” 

“Well, actually, Luddy and I came here together. But he seems to have disappeared on me.” He smirked. “So, there’s space in my car if you want a ride?” 

“No, thank you,” Erzsébet said. She opened the door to leave but was greeted by a deluge of rain. There was absolutely no way she was about to walk in the rain; she would be soaked in seconds. 

Closing the door, Erzsébet rolled her eyes as she turned back to Gilbert. “Fine. You win.” 

Gilbert looked away and scratched behind his ear. “Oh no, that’s unfortunate. Someone just asked for a ride and there’s no more room,” he said, sarcastically. “Kidding, kidding. Sit tight; I’ll pull the car around.” Gilbert sprinted out of the gym and to his car while Erzsébet stayed behind. She watched as car headlights flickered through the windows as Gilbert pulled the car in front of the entrance. 

Quickly, Erzsébet ran out of the gym and climbed into Gilbert’s car, slamming the door shut behind her. She let out a sigh of relief. “Was it even supposed to rain today?” 

“It’s London,” Gilbert replied, putting the car in drive. “Isn’t it always raining?” He paused and turned the radio on low. “Where to?” 

“There’s a pub several blocks down,” Erzsébet said. 

“A pub? Isn’t that a little rowdy?”

“It’s one of the nicer ones. Roderich wouldn’t accept anything less.” 

The two of them went quiet and let the quiet music fill the car. Light after traffic light, it took them about fifteen minutes to reach the pub due to traffic. Just as Erzsébet was about to open the car door, the rain came down harder. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned. Through the window of the restaurant, she could see Roderich sitting at a table, checking his phone for the time. “Do you have an umbrella by chance?” 

Gilbert thought for a moment. “I think it’s in the trunk,” he answered. He took off his seatbelt. “You want me to go get it?” 

Erzsébet shook her head. “No, no; rain like this never lasts long.” 

“You sure? I’m not made of sugar; I won’t melt.” 

Erzsébet laughed. “It’s fine.” She paused. “Do you like music?” 

“Who doesn’t?” 

“Classical music, I mean,” she clarified. 

Gilbert shrugged and leaned back in his seat. “I mean, it’s cool I guess. I don’t mind it.” A pause. “Why?” 

“I have this extra ticket to Roderich’s concert and I hate to waste the money.” She pulled the tickets out of her purse. She didn’t like what she was going to ask next. “Would you at least be interested?” 

“What’s on the program?” 

Erzsébet hesitated. “Um, Mozart, I think? What concerto is he working on again?”

“I thought he said something about Beethoven weeks ago,” Gilbert stated. 

“Beethoven! That’s it!” Erzsébet leaned her head back and groaned. “I get all of them mixed up.” 

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What? Why? They sound completely different.” 

Erzsébet nearly jumped out of her seat. “You can  _ actually  _ tell the difference?!” 

Gilbert laughed. “Uh, yeah? Beethoven sounds like a constipated, angsty jerk and Mozart sounds like a naive prankster.” 

“That makes zero sense.” 

“It does if you know a little bit about their history.” 

Erzsébet thought for a second. “Wait, how the hell do  _ you  _ know the difference?” she asked. “You don’t  _ seem  _ like someone who listens to classical music on the daily basis.” 

“Didn’t Roderich tell you? I played the flute when I was a kid.” 

Erzsébet burst into laughter. “You  _ did not _ .” 

“I did too.” 

“I can’t imagine that! You playing a dinky little flute!!” 

Gilbert snickered. “I know, it’s far fetched. But it’s true.” 

They continued to laugh for a couple of more minutes until they noticed that the rain had stopped. Erzsébet turned to Gilbert with a kind smile. “Do you wanna stay for dinner and come to the concert?” she offered. 

Gilbert hesitated. “Tell you what,” he started. “I won’t stay for dinner because I look like total garbage right now.” He looked down at his gym outfit he was still wearing. “But give me the ticket and I’ll come to the concert.” 

Nodding, Erzsébet handed the small ticket to Gilbert and climbed out of the car. Putting the ticket in his wallet, Gilbert got out of the car as well and opened the trunk to grab the umbrella. Erzsébet was already about to step into the pub when he stopped her. 

“Here,” he said, handing her the umbrella. “Just in case it, you know, rains again.” 

Erzsébet smiled. “Thank you, Gilbert. See you in an hour or two.” She then stepped into the restaurant while Gilbert got back into his car. He watched her until Erzsébet was settled inside before driving back to his apartment. 

Stumbling over his feet, Gilbert hurried into his room to change his clothes. He knew he had  _ plenty  _ of time until the start of the concert, but for  _ once _ , he felt excited. It was a dumb classical concert, but who cared? It was an excuse to sit with  _ Erzsébet _ and spend more time with her. 

Well, and Roderich, he supposed. 

Gilbert managed to find a decent pair of pants, a dress shirt and a jacket as an outfit for the evening. When he emerged out of his bedroom, he caught a glimpse of Francis sitting on the couch completely wrapped up in a blanket with his beloved jar of Nutella and a spoon. 

Something happened. 

“Hey Franny,” Gilbert said, casually walking closer to the couch. “You okay?” 

Francis looked over at Gilbert melodramatically. “Life is so stupid,” he whined. 

“Oh boy,” Gilbert groaned. “Your adviser didn’t like your rough draft?” 

“He  _ hated  _ it,” Francis carved out a huge spoonful of nutella. “I basically have to start from scratch.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Why do I torment myself this way?” 

“I don’t know, but everything’s gonna work out, okay?” Gilbert added. He walked backwards towards the door. “Try not to eat too much of that stuff, alright? You’ll make yourself sick.” 

Francis pouted. “It’s the only thing that comforts me.” 

“Have you tried alcohol?” Gilbert inquired with a smirk. 

“I had a glass of wine,” Francis leaned forward and put the lid on the jar of Nutella. 

“ _ A  _ glass? C’mon…”

“My father was an alcoholic; I don’t like to drink too much if I can help it.” He paused and analyzed Gilbert’s outfit. Intrigued, a smirk came upon his face. “Where are you going? A date?” 

Gilbert took a deep breath and crossed his arms. “Not really; I was offered a free ticket to a concert.” 

Francis glanced at his outfit again. “A classical concert, I presume, with that outfit,” he stated, before launching into his interrogation. “Who gave you the ticket?” 

“None of your business,” 

“Do I know them?” 

“Probably not.” 

“Is this a date?” 

“I already answered that.” 

Francis looked at him with skepticism. “You’re not normally this secretive,” he muttered. “Let me guess, you  _ like  _ this person but they don’t like you back?” 

Gilbert remained silent, looking at his escape route longingly while avoiding Francis’ knowing gaze. 

Francis clapped his hands together and jumped to his feet. “I’m right, aren’t I?! What’s their name?” 

“I really should get going,” Gilbert said, walking to the door. 

“ _ Fine _ , but do tell me how it all goes when you come back. The date, I mean.” Francis relented, sitting back down. “My nights have gotten so boring now that Antonio has a job. And everyone around me is having relationships while I'm stuck with dissertation writing.” 

Gilbert froze, brow furrowing. “Antonio's not in relationship.”

“He didn't tell you? One of those cute Italians at his job sucked his dick in the bathroom.” 

“Lovino sucked Antonio's dick?!?! At  _ work _ ?!” 

“I think it was after they closed for the night. But  _ still _ .” Francis laid down. “Not fair.” 

Gilbert rolled his eyes as he opened the door. “Well, try not to mope around too hard. See ya.” He didn’t wait for Francis’ overdramatic goodbye as he closed the door and made his way out of the apartment complex. 

After a quick dinner, Roderich and Erzsébet drove to the Performing Arts Center in a light drizzle. They both shared the umbrella Gilbert had let Erzsébet borrow, and with a sweet kiss, they parted ways as Roderich hurried to the backstage to warm up. 

There was still a long wait until the doors would open, and Erzsébet wandered around the lobby area, occasionally looking around for Gilbert. She shook the umbrella free of its excess water and sat down on a cushioned bench to wait. Plenty of people passed by her, and Erzsébet caught glimpses of every conversation, but most she couldn’t really follow. 

“Oh, I just  _ love  _ Beethoven’s works. How he modulates and creates motives and develops them is just perfection!” 

“I heard Mr. Edelstein perform the Grieg piano concerto last year; his technique is absolutely  _ flawless  _ and  _ breathtaking _ . I can’t wait to hear him perform Beethoven!” 

Though she loved seeing Roderich perform, Erzsébet always felt out of place when she sat in the concert hall. Sure, she appreciated the music, but she felt that she didn’t belong. She knew nothing about composers or music theory, and she couldn’t tell  _ any  _ of the music apart from the other. Half of the people who attended these concerts were rich and pretentious, and they reminded her why Roderich was paranoid about people constantly judging him. 

“’Sup, Erzsébet!” 

Erzsébet jumped and turned to see Gilbert sitting slouched next to her. He was completely soaking wet; she looked out to the doors to see that the skies had decided to open up again. 

“You’re soaked!” She glanced at the umbrella and sighed. “I’m sorry, you should’ve kept your umbrella.” 

Gilbert shrugged; he didn’t seem bothered at all. “Nah, I needed a shower anyway.” He grinned. “The people who own this place probably won’t be happy that I’m about to ruin their furniture by being dripping wet.” 

Erzsébet laughed. “I’m sure they’ve dealt with worse,” she said. “God, with this many old people around, they’ve probably dealt with some sort of bathroom accident.” 

“True,” Gilbert stood up. “You think they got drinks around?” 

“Yes, the little stand over there,” Erzsébet answered, pointing in the general direction. “Follow me.” Weaving in and out of the crowd, they got to the small bar and ordered two different drinks. When the worker handed them their cups, Gilbert was disappointed in the amount he was given. 

“How much was this again?” he asked, annoyed. “This is like a sip! I paid like £10 for this!!!” 

“That’s why I usually don’t grab a drink here,” Erzsébet stated. “The people here are so stingy.” 

“Obviously.” Gilbert drank his sip of whiskey in one gulp and tossed the cup over his shoulder and into the garbage can nearby. “Alright, I have a question,” 

Erzsébet hesitated. “Shoot.” 

“If you can’t tell the difference between Beethoven and Mozart, how are you with a professional musician?” 

She laughed nervously.  _ At least he’s straight to the point _ . “Well, we generally don’t talk about music that much. I listen to him practice and see his performances, and I enjoy them.” 

“You’d think he would’ve taught you some things,” Gilbert added, putting his hands in his pockets. 

“He’s tried,” Erzsébet sighed. “I tried to learn piano for a bit but it seems that my coordination in swimming doesn’t carry over into music. Roderich also...explains things very... _ densely _ . It’s almost like he’s speaking a different code when he speaks about music.” 

Gilbert nodded and leaned against the wall behind him. “Who’s yours, or Roderich’s, favorite composer?” 

Erzsébet thought. _Has he ever told me?_ _Every composer seems to be his favorite…_ “I feel like Beethoven is a safe choice?” She looked at Gilbert. “I know it’s been a long time since you’ve done any music, but do you have one?” 

“I always hated Mozart; ugh, his stuff is such a snoozefest,” Gilbert began. “I didn’t get too far into the Romantic period with my solos, but I did in orchestras and ensembles--” 

“Romantic...period?” Erzsébet blurted. 

Gilbert couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah, Romantic period.” He paused. “Beethoven  _ can be _ considered as a Romantic composer depending upon who you ask, if that helps.” 

“Not really, but go on,” 

“Honestly, this is going to sound weird, but I didn’t mind Bach. There’s something really philosophical about his music, even though I know it was really  _ spirituality  _ that inspired the guy. If you wanna believe in that, go for it I guess. The jury is still out for me…” 

Gilbert continued to talk and explain why he liked Bach’s music for several minutes; he talked about it for so long that he was still talking about it when the doors opened and he and Erzsébet took their seats. He had somehow gotten off of the topic of Bach and onto several tangents about aesthetic philosophy, musical empiricism, and how music connected to math. As he went on and on, Erzsébet couldn’t help but smile. 

“Oh my God,” she muttered, interrupting him. 

“What?” Gilbert replied. He had stopped in mid sentence and was confused. 

“You’re a nerd!” Erzsébet giggled. She covered her mouth to try to keep herself quiet to not draw attention to herself. There was always some expectation to be quiet in the concert hall, even when there  _ wasn’t  _ music being performed. “Who would have guessed that you were so nerdy??” 

“I’m not a nerd!” Gilbert argued indignantly. 

“Do you even  _ know _ how much time you’ve spent talking about Bach and music and the philosophy of...whatever it was you were talking about?”

Gilbert kept quiet. Realizing that he had been talking for  _ far too long _ , he quickly became defensive. “I’m _ not _ a nerd,” he said with a touch of hostility. 

Erzsébet laughed. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t be embarrassed. If it makes you feel better, I like nerdy people.” She opened her program and mindlessly flipped through the pages. “It shows that you’re passionate about something. That’s why I fell for Roderich; ask him one thing about music and he’ll go on for  _ hours _ . It’s adorable.” The lights in the hall dimmed and the concert was about to start. “It’s  _ okay  _ to be a nerd. At least, I think it’s good to be one.” 

Gilbert had nothing to counter her claim; deep down, Gilbert knew he was a  _ huge  _ fucking nerd. He hadn’t realized that he was talking about something that was so  _ dumb  _ and  _ useless _ . The philosophy of Bach’s music?  _ Seriously _ ? How  _ stupid  _ can you get? 

_ This is why philosophy is dying, _ Gilbert thought as the orchestra started to tune before they began playing a their pieces for the first half.  _ Philosophy is so fucking stupid.  _

The first half of the concert was quite nice; the orchestra played a couple of short pieces and had done exceptionally well. It was time for intermission, which meant that Roderich’s performance of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5 was next. Both Erzsébet and Gilbert took quick breaks to the restroom, somehow managing to miss the long lines that usually formed at intermission, and returned to their seats. 

Feeling that she had someone to explain classical music to her in a way that she could understand, Erzsébet had several more questions for Gilbert. Most of the questions, Gilbert had an answer for, surprising himself with how much he knew. 

“How do you know all this?” Erzsébet asked, curiosity getting the better of her. 

“I like reading about dumb, useless things,” Gilbert answered with a half-hearted shrug.

“Alright, so, let me get the three “B’s” straight: Bach is from the broke period?” 

“ _ Baroque _ .” 

“Sorry, baroque. Then Beethoven is in the classical period, but also in the romantic period?” 

“Mm-hm.”

“Then... _ shit _ , what’s his name again? The last “B”? The one that sounds like that cereal? Brans? Raisin Brans?” 

Gilbert laughed. “Are you talking about  _ Brahms _ ?” 

“ _ Fuck _ !” 

They both laughed. “How about this; let’s talk about a composer that was from your country. Where were born again?” Gilbert asked. 

“Hungary, but we moved to Austria when I was a teen.” 

“Is that how you met Roderich?”

“No, funnily enough. I met him here in London.” 

Gilbert nodded. “Fair enough.” He sat up in his chair. “So you’ve heard of Liszt, right?” 

Erzsébet stared at him. “He’s that piano guy, right?” 

Gilbert snorted. “Yeah, one of the many piano guys that have existed. He was a Hungarian pianist.” 

“Oh  _ waaaait _ , I’ve heard of him!! He was very show off-y? And then didn’t all of the women like him or something?” 

Gilbert could barely contain his laughter. “I would have to double check my sources…” he said in between his laughter. “How about another pianist?” 

“Beethoven.” 

“No, a different one.” 

Erzsébet groaned and slouched in her chair. “There’s that...um...the one the cuts stuff?” 

“ _ What _ ?” 

“You know,” Erzsébet then pretended that she was holding an ax and started to swing her arms around. 

“ _ Jesus Christ _ , Erzsébet,” Gilbert held onto his stomach; he already knew which composer she was thinking of. “I don’t know how much more I can take of your comedy routine.” 

“Who is it?!” 

“ _ Chopin _ .” 

Erzsébet made a face. “Is that how it’s really pronounced?” 

“ _ Yes _ . His father was French and his mother was Polish.” 

“ _ Oooooh _ . I’ve been pronouncing that wrong for a very, very long time. No one corrected me!” 

The guessing game continued for about another half minute until the lights flashed and dimmed, indicating the concert would be resuming soon. Gilbert and Erzsébet agreed they would resume their game to another time and prepared to listen to the second half of the concert. 

The lights finally dimmed again and the concertmaster stood up from their seat to tune the orchestra. Within seconds after they had finished, Roderich stepped out onto the stage with a proud smile on his face. The conductor lingered behind as Roderich took a bow and sat down.

Once everything and everyone was in place, the orchestra members lifted up their instruments and all eyes were on the conductor. With the conductor’s cue, the orchestra held out a note and then Roderich began to play, displaying his talent from the very first note. Immediately, Gilbert thought that it was over the top, but it wasn’t annoyingly so. It was already evident that Roderich’s hard work had paid off and his technique was incredible. 

As the concerto continued, everyone sitting in the hall was mesmerized by the music. Every phrase, every embellishment, every accompanying aspect was thoroughly thought out and expertly done. There was no mistake to be found in Roderich’s playing; every note was practically perfect. 

It wasn’t until when the concerto had come to its end when Gilbert realized he had been so invested in the music. Alongside the rest of the audience, he and Erzsébet stood and joined the applause. Roderich bowed, shook hands with conductor and the concertmaster before stepping off of the stage. The applause was still deafening, and he returned to bow once again and sat down to perform an encore. 

Erzsébet leaned closer to Gilbert to whisper in his ear. “He’s going to play a Chopin piece, I think. It’s one of his favorite pieces.” 

She was right; Roderich performed Chopin’s famous Nocturne in E-Flat. It was a nice contrast to the active Beethoven concerto as it was soft and tranquil. When the nocturne was finished, the audience applauded again and Gilbert leaned in to whisper to Erzsébet. 

“Congrats, you were right." 

“It was Chopin?!” she asked. 

“Yes!” 

“ _ Hell yeah _ !” She pumped her fist in victory. A couple of other audience members gave her a funny look, but she didn’t care; she’d  _ finally  _ gotten a composer right. 

Eventually, the applause faded away and the lights in the hall brightened as everyone began to gather up their coats and other belongings. Slowly but surely, Gilbert and Erzsébet made their way to the exit, joining the clusters of people that were “politely” squeezing through to leave. 

As Gilbert and Erzsébet finally made their way out of the hall, walked down the stairs, they found people crowding around a small table where Roderich was sitting for a small meet and greet. A small pile of thin CDs sat next to him along with a fancy pen.  _ Is he already that famous? _ Gilbert asked himself as he followed Erzsébet to the table. 

When the crowds dispersed and everyone had left to go home, Erzsébet ran up to Roderich to give him a hug and a rather passionate kiss. Gilbert stayed far behind, glancing away from the intimate scene before him. 

“Such a wonderful performance, Roderich!!” she cheered. “Flawless and perfect, as always!” 

Roderich nodded and gave a half smile. “Well, there were a couple of spots where my fingers slipped over the notes. And some of my phrasings were off and--”

Erzsébet distracted him with a quick kiss on the cheek. “Stop. It was perfect, and you know it.” 

Roderich chuckled. “Thank you,  _ liebling _ .” He looked around. “Didn’t you say a friend was coming?” 

Erzsébet hesitated and took a step back. “Before you get mad, I want to say something,” she said. “I think you and... _ this person  _ got off on the wrong foot. I think you two might actually have more in common than you think and--”

“It’s Gilbert, isn’t it?” Roderich asked in a low voice. 

“Y-yeah?” Erzsébet replied. She looked over her shoulder at Gilbert who was still standing pretty far away. “I didn’t know who else to ask and he gave me a ride to the pub and then he told me he plays the flute. So I was like, huh, maybe he likes classical music. And then I found out he’s a total  _ nerd  _ so...please try and be nice, I guess?” 

“Erzsébet, he’s the one who’s been a  _ bully  _ to  _ me _ ,” Roderich stated. “Why should I give a second chance?” 

Erzsébet took a deep breath. “I suppose it’s fair,” she sighed. “He did talk about Bach for nearly fifteen, twenty minutes before the concert, though. Something about how his music is philosophically sound and empirical or something?” 

Roderich raised his eyebrows in surprise.  _ Interesting statement from someone who only played the flute for five years _ , he mused. With another deep breath, he decided to take Erzsébet’s advice; perhaps he and Gilbert  _ did  _ get off on the wrong foot. Roderich cleared his throat and slowly approached Gilbert. “So, uh, what did you think of the concert?” he asked hesitantly.

“Oh, I thought it was good,” Gilbert answered. “I forgot how um…. _ nice  _ classical concerts can be.” He paused. “It’s still pretty pretentious, though.” 

_ Of course _ . Roderich closed his eyes briefly to hide the roll of his eyes.  _ You have to insult it even though you enjoyed it. _ “Well, I’m glad you like the concert,” he said. “Erzsébet tells me you’re actually a fan of classical music secretly?” 

Gilbert hesitated. “A  _ fan _ ? Naaaah. It’s nice to listen to, I guess.” 

“And something about the philosophy of Bach’s music?” 

Gilbert looked around Roderich to glare at Erzsébet.  _ Why did you tell him  _ that  _ of all things?  _ Gilbert berated her internally. Erzsébet shrugged but smiled; it seemed like she had a secret plan. “All I said was that there’s...something nice about Bach’s music. The construction of the melody and harmony are intertwined like a finely tuned machine, reaching beyond the soul… or something,” Gilbert mumbled. 

Roderich tilted his head and gave a small smile; he was mildly intrigued. “Well, Bach worked for the church as a keyboardist all his life. Most of his music was inspired by faith and perfectly done,” he said. “Every detail is so intricate and full of meaning; it’s hard not to be moved by Bach’s music.” 

Gilbert kicked his shoe against the tile floor, scuffing it a bit. “Yeah, it’s  _ neat  _ I guess.” 

“I’m curious, after you stopped playing music, what did you go into at university?” 

“Philosophy.” 

Roderich snorted and looked over at Erzsébet. “You weren’t kidding; he’s a nerd.” 

“Not a nerd!” Gilbert shouted, drawing the scornful glances of several passersby. 

“We’re all nerds in our own right, calm down,” Roderich said soothingly, giving Gilbert the first truly genuine smile he’d ever received from him. “Now I can’t but wonder what your opinion is on other composers.” 

Erzsébet came over, gently pulled on Roderich’s arm and linked hers with his. She grinned smugly. “Maybe this is good for a discussion over drinks?” she suggested. “We could finally open that expensive bottle of whiskey your parents gave to you over Christmas, Roderich.” 

“Sure,” Roderich agreed. He too seemed to be in on some secret plan. “You wanna follow us to our house?” 

Gilbert thought for a moment, looking over at Erzsébet and Roderich with slight confusion. He then shrugged. “Yeah, I like free drinks. Especially fancy, expensive free drinks,” he replied with a grin. He pulled his car keys and swung them around his finger as he started his way to the exit. He then snickered. “Let’s get going, losers!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Here's a new chapter! This chapter was a lot of fun to write, let me tell you. I love making music jokes, and this chapter is filled with common things I hear from people who know nothing about music. I hope you find it funny as much as I do. 
> 
> Feel free to comment if you'd like. We read all of the comments and do our best to reply to all of them. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! 
> 
> -violinia (Katelyn) and TheCrystalFalls (Ellie)


	10. A Evening's Aftermath

Ludwig sat on the edge of his bed with his cell phone in his hands, thinking. Yesterday was the first time he _saw_ what his brother had been referring to: someone _liked_ him. It was also the first time Ludwig felt that he might have had some feelings in return.

Ludwig, being a logical and practical person, didn’t know what to do. Romantic emotions of any kind were illogical and irrational; there was simply no point in them. Those type of feelings were excuses to bring two people together to get rid of some physical need out of their system. And once _that_ was out of the way, there was just no point.

 _Right_?

Ludwig didn’t have a clue; he had never had any serious romantic feelings for anyone before, nor shared an intimate moment in the bedroom. The fact that Ludwig was feeling _something_ illogical and irrational was throwing him through a loop.

Then there was the other issue. Sexuality.

Ludwig had never thought much of his sexuality. He was a man of business, and he only focused on such. Anything other than that seemed trivial.

Until now.

Staring at his phone with hesitation, Ludwig felt that he needed to talk to someone. But who to call?

It was nearly ten o’clock in the morning. Gilbert’s eyes fluttered open to discover that he was indeed not in his small room in a shared apartment. He then remembered that he had followed Erzsébet and Roderich home the night prior and they had a couple of drinks over a discussion. _Then_ , he remembered the wild turn of events which resulted in him waking up in Erzsébet’s and Roderich’s shared bed beside them.

Gilbert hadn’t woken up on his own accord; instead, he woke up because of the _constant_ buzzing noise that was coming from the floor. Drowsily Gilbert slid partially out of bed and blindly reached around, searching for his pants. He must have left his phone on silent from the concert last night. Thankfully, the noise didn’t seem to wake the sleeping Erzsébet and Roderich.

By the time he found his phone, the call had been forwarded to voicemail. Groaning, Gilbert unlocked his phone to see that he had five missed calls from his brother. _What the hell?_ Gilbert thought as he began writing out a simple text message.

_Alles gut?_

With the message sent, Gilbert settled back under the covers. Erzsébet stirred from her sleep; she had been holding onto Roderich, but she soon rolled over and did the same to Gilbert. Feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the new situation at hand, Gilbert didn’t know what to do. _Do I sneak out? Do I push her away?? Do I let out a shout??? What do I do????_

Gilbert’s phone buzzed again with a response from Ludwig.

_Ich hab’ eine Frage für dich. Wo bist du?_

Gilbert was confused; what the hell kind of emergency was Ludwig _having_ to be calling Gilbert five times and now sending urgent text messages? It wasn’t like Ludwig at all.

 _Müssen wir jetzt sprechen??_  

_Yes!!!! Now!!!!! Wo. Bist. Du? Nach Hause?_

_Nein...könntest du warten?_

“What are you doing, Gilbert?” Erzsébet asked. Her voice sounded extremely groggy, and her hair was a mess. It wasn’t fair that she was adorable at this moment.

“Sorry, um, just texting,” he answered. He reached over to put the phone on the bedside table. “Should you...be...clinging to me like this?”

“What? Like what?”

“You know. Like we’re...together or something?” Gilbert heard his cellphone buzz again, and he glanced at it.

“Oh Gilbert, don’t make this weird.” Erzsébet sighed and closed her eyes. “You’ve been Mister Boastful all this time; you mean to tell me now you _actually_ get nervous?”

“You’re in a _relationship_ ,” Gilbert clarified. There was another buzz from the cellphone.

“But you’re warm, and Roderich is stealing the blanket. _Again_.” She paused. “But I’ll move if you’re uncomfortable.”

Gilbert swiped his phone off the table and read the two messages. Ludwig seemed insistent on asking _some_ question. _What’s gotten into you, Luddy?_ Gilbert thought. “You don’t have to move,” Gilbert muttered. He carefully slid out of bed and started to grab his clothes. “It looks like I’m needed elsewhere. Uh, last night was fun?”

Erzsébet smirked. “ _Very_ fun.” She rolled onto her back and pulled the top sheet over her shoulders. “You enjoyed last night?”

Gilbert didn’t have to answer; his grin said it all.

Erzsébet giggled. “Good; we’ll have to discuss the _future_ , then. Are you working today?”

“I don’t think so. It’s my day off.”

“Damn. See you tomorrow, then.”

“See ya.”

Once dressed in his clothes from the previous night, Gilbert hurried out of the house and climbed into his car. As he turned on the car, he gave his brother a call.

Ludwig answered immediately after the first ring. “Gilbert, thank God. Where are you?”

“Long story. What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Gilbert asked as he backed his car out of the driveway. “It’s unlike you to be bugging me like this.”

“I need to ask you a question,” Ludwig answered. “You’re not home?”

“No, I’m _on_ my way home. I should be there in twenty minutes. Do you want to talk now?”

“I’d rather talk face to face. I’ll see you at your apartment.”

“What’s gotten into you?!”

“I’ll explain later!”

The phone conversation ended there, and Gilbert groaned as he tossed his phone into the passenger seat. He tried to get back to the apartment as quick as he could. After parking in the lot, he ran up the stairwell and found his brother pacing in front of the apartment door. Concerned, Gilbert gently pushed his brother aside and unlocked the door.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked. They stepped into the apartment and went to Gilbert’s room. Ludwig quietly closed the door behind him as Gilbert began taking off his clothes to prepare for a shower. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ludwig answered. He held up his hands to prove there were no injuries. “I just need to ask you a question. Do you promise me that you won’t laugh?”

“Why would I laugh?” Gilbert asked, tossing his shirt over into the hamper.

“Because you laugh at everything,” Ludwig said. “Promise me.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes and waved his hand. “ _Ja, ja_ , I promise.”

Ludwig took a deep breath and put two fingers over his lips. “Am I gay?”

Gilbert bit down so hard on his tongue it almost started to bleed. He _wanted_ to laugh, mainly as a nervous reaction, because why on earth did Ludwig think he’d have an answer??

When Gilbert did not respond, Ludwig sighed. “You want to laugh, don’t you?”

“Look, Luddy, that’s an absurd question. I can’t answer that _for_ you.”

“Why not??”

“Because that’s your own individual question! I can’t tell you who you’re attracted to or not attracted to.” He paused. “Wait, where is this coming from?”

Ludwig hesitated. “I don’t want to get into it.”

Gilbert smirked. “Ah, Feliciano?”

Ludwig’s cheeks grew hot. “Don’t start mocking me.”

“I’m not,” Gilbert patted his brother’s back. “So what happened exactly? You guys do it or something?”

“ _No_ ,” Ludwig sat down on the edge of Gilbert’s bed. He ran his hands over his face. “It’s so _stupid_ . He just _looked_ at me.”

“Like, looked at you like “I’mma suck your dick” or a “The color of your eyes reminds me of the wide blue ocean, and I could be lost in them forever” kind of look?”

“I don’t _know_ ; he just looked at me! And I felt...weird.”

Gilbert snorted. “That’s called an _erection_ , Luddy.”

Ludwig shot a glare at his older brother. “You _promised_.”

Gilbert sat down next to his brother and sighed. “Sorry, sorry. You know I can’t help myself when I don’t know how else to react.” He took a deep breath. “Look, if you have feelings for Feliciano, go with the flow. He’s had a crush on you since day one and even wore those booty shorts to yoga class one time to show off.” Gilbert laughed again. “I can’t believe it took you until now to realize _anything_.”

Ludwig groaned. “But it doesn’t make any sense. I don’t _think_ about _those_ things. Not to mention, it’s all illogical and irrational.”

“Well, if you want to get into that, basically everything in life is illogical and irrational--”

“I didn’t come here for one of your philosophical tangents,” Ludwig cut him off. “What I _meant_ was that any romance is a distraction. All it is is just hormones or whatever tricking you to reproduce.”

Gilbert frowned. “Where did mom and dad go wrong with you? And all this time I thought you had everything under control.”

“Would you just answer my question?” Ludwig pleaded.

Gilbert stood up and made his way to the door. “I already told you; that’s not a question for me, nor anyone else, to answer except yourself. If anything, just go with the flow and see how it all turns out.”

“That goes against any better judgment!!”

“Sometimes that’s how life works, Luddy.” Gilbert opened the door. “You gotta take risks.” He smiled. “I’m going to take a shower that I _desperately_ need; feel free to help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen. Well, anything except the Nutella. Francis gets angry like an aggressive, territorial fish for that stuff.” He paused. “Don’t tell him I said he’s like a fish. He’ll be _furious_.”

Before Gilbert could leave, Ludwig had one last question. “Where _were_ you, by the way?”

Gilbert turned around and grinned. “Erzsébet’s and Roderich's place...”

Ludwig stared at his brother in confusion. “ _What_?”

“We went to Roderich's concert, watched him perform, talked about music, watched Erzsébet and Roderich do it, then _you know_. Joined ‘em.”

Ludwig groaned in disgust. “I swear you're like an animal.”

“Why?? Cause I ate Erzsébet’s p--”

“ _Don't_.”

“--And fucked her boyfriend? I think I know how to party!!”

“ _Why_ am _I_ related to you?” Ludwig mumbled. “We're not even _close_ in personality.”

Gilbert sighed. “Here goes Luddy the prude, ruining everyone else's fun.”

“I'm not ruining anything; you're just disgusting!”

Finished with the argument, Gilbert disappeared around the corner, leaving Ludwig sitting on the bed. Eventually, Ludwig left the bedroom and wandered into the living area of the apartment. He found Francis leaning against the kitchen counter, holding a coffee mug, staring at something random, seemingly trapped in his thoughts. Not wanting to disturb him, Ludwig opened a cabinet and put two pieces of bread into the toaster. When the toast was ready, Ludwig put a little bit of butter and jam on top.

He could feel that Francis was watching him.

“You seem stressed,” Francis said.

“I’m fine,” Ludwig replied. He took a bite of his toast and tried to ignore the fact that Francis was still watching him. Crumbs from the toast were spilling everywhere with each bite, and soon after every bite, Ludwig found himself picking up each crumb and placing it on the plate. “Do you _mind_?” he asked Francis.

“You’re the one who came over here,” Francis muttered into his coffee mug. “Invading _my_ space.”

Ludwig groaned; he didn’t understand how his brother put up with Francis. Francis was nosy and drama seeking, and Ludwig found it childish.

“Don’t you have a dissertation to write?” Ludwig asked.

Francis set his coffee mug aside and crossed his arms. “What, am I not allowed some time off?” He paused. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you? Normally you only have two emotions: serious and emotionally constipated.”

Ludwig felt the color rising to his cheeks at the accusation that seemed to come out of nowhere. “I am _not_ emotionally constipated.”

Francis shrugged. “Maybe not, I don’t know your personal life.”

Ludwig stared at him for a second longer in bewilderment before finishing the toast, washing the small plate he had used and making his way to the door. But, something stopped him when he reached for the door. He was _dreading_ the possible can of worms that could be opened.

He turned around to face Francis. “You have psychology degrees, yes?”

“I’m not a therapist,” Francis answered quickly. Everyone seemed to think he was a therapist because of his two psychology degrees and expected free therapy.

Ludwig ignored the response. “Could I...possibly ask you something?”

Francis picked up his coffee mug and took a sip, waiting for Ludwig’s question.

“Do I...do I come across as gay to you?”

In an attempt to hold in his laughter, Francis spewed coffee everywhere. Moving over to the sink, he spat out the rest of the coffee that was in his mouth and covered his mouth to hide a smile. “ _Mon Dieu_ , give me some warning first!”  

Ludwig didn’t share his amusement. “Could you please just answer the question?”

“Well, I don’t know, do you identify as gay?”

Ludwig scowled. Why couldn’t anyone give him a straight answer? “I don’t know!”

“You don’t know if you’re gay?”

“No! I don’t know! No one’s told me if I am or not!”

Francis froze, staring at Ludwig wide-eyed. “No one… has to... _tell_ you your sexuality, Ludwig,” he muttered, incredulous. He drew in a quick breath and sighed. “Let me guess, controlling parents? Told you what to do, when to do it and if you didn’t do it, you’d be punished?”

“I thought you said you weren’t a therapist,” Ludwig grumbled.

Francis walked around the counter and sat down on the couch. He patted the spot beside him, inviting Ludwig to sit beside him. Ludwig hesitated but then relented and obliged. “Do you find relationships useless and a waste of time?”

“Friendships? No.”

“ _Romantic_ relationships.”

“Yes. They don’t make sense; nothing’s...rational about it.”

“So something has to be rational for you to consider it worth your time?” Francis chuckled. “And let me guess, two things are irrational: romance and sexuality. Correct? Because they’re not _straightforward_ enough for you?”

“I suppose…”

Francis shifted in his seat to face Ludwig directly. “Sexuality is somewhat easier to figure out if you’re worried about it. Are you sexually attracted to men or women?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you _mean_ you don’t know?”

“I don’t know! I don’t... _think_ about it!!”

Francis thought for a second. “So you’re asexual?”

Ludwig furrowed his brow in thought. “That’s an option?”

“Certainly.”

Ludwig took a minute to process the new information.

“Now,” Francis began. “This romance thing; did something happen that’s made you feel and act irrationally?”

“There’s this...person,” Ludwig started.

“A man, I suspect?”

“ _Yes_ , a man. We’ve been speaking to each other now and then. He comes to some of the classes, wearing _bizarre_ outfits, and we’ve recently become business partners.” Ludwig paused to wait if Francis wanted to say anything. He did not. “Yesterday, I was showing him around the club that we’ll be working on, and he decided to...dance around.”

Francis raised an eyebrow. “ _Dance_?”

“He used to dance when he was a kid, okay? Don’t make it dirty or anything.” Ludwig pinched the bridge of his nose. “Though, I now realize that he was dancing quite _sensually_. But that’s not the point. He did something incredibly dumb, nearly fell off of the stage and I caught him so he wouldn’t hurt himself. We made eye contact and then I felt weird.”

“How so?”

“Like…” Ludwig hesitated; he didn’t know how to put into words. “I suppose it felt like...everything stopped. I know that sounds _ridiculously_ cliche but…”

“It sounds like you have feelings for this person,” Francis mused. “And what’s holding you back?”

“It’s not like I’ve ever had a romantic relationship before. I’d need a...book or something to help explain everything thoroughly.”

Francis snorted. “You don’t need a book! Just go with your intuition!”

“Don’t you see how that doesn’t wo--”

“It will work,” Francis stood up. “Love is something you can’t overthink; you just get swept up in the moment. It’ll take some getting used to for someone who clings to logic the way you do. But give the guy a chance. He sounds like a good match.”

As Francis walked away to get more coffee, Ludwig felt more confused than ever. He hated feeling confused; he was never one to sit around and think of silly things. Ludwig liked quick, blunt answers, not answers that only led to more questions.

He gathered himself up and left the apartment, wandering back to his own to get ready for the day; so lost in his confused thoughts, he forgot his cell phone and had to return for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry, again, for the delay. I totally forgot to upload last night...
> 
> Okay, so I need to be honest with everyone. I know this story has gotten boring or is nothing compared to London is Burning. I feel like I've disappointed you all with this prequel? 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter, even though this story is boring. 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia)
> 
> Rough translations of the text messages between Ludwig and Gilbert 
> 
> "Everything okay?"   
> "I have a question for you. Where are you?"  
> "Do we have to talk now?"  
> "Yes!! Now!! Where. Are. You? Home?"   
> "No...can't you wait?"


	11. Pure Logic

Feliciano sat at the most centered table in the restaurant, staring off in the distance. He still felt defeated that all of his flirtatious efforts with Ludwig. There were footsteps beside him as Lovino walked past him.

“Why are you pouting? This place is about to open for lunch, and you’re sitting there like a sad puppy. Get up, _idiota_!” Lovino hissed. When Feliciano didn’t respond, Lovino huffed. “Is it Beef Boy? He’s not responding to your advances?”

“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong,” Feliciano answered. “We seem to get along just fine, but nothing I do gets his attention. I thought we shared a moment last night but, he ran away.”

Lovino smirked. “You know what that means, don’t you?” He poked the back of his brother’s head. “The bastard doesn’t like you. Plus, that means I won our little bet!” He held out his hand. “Cough it up!!”

Feliciano quickly stood up and walked away from his brother. “It’s only been a short while,” he stated. He stood behind the front of the counter. “Give me some more time.”

“Nope. It’s clear that he doesn’t swing that way, so come on! I won!”

Feliciano swiped the keys to unlock the front door and kept his back to his brother. He _hated_ when Lovino acted like this. _No one_ liked a sore winner. As he hurried back to the kitchen, Feliciano continued to ignore Lovino as he went through his rounds of quick cleaning. There was the cheery chime of the front door opening, and Feliciano peeked around the corner to greet the customer.

“ _Buongiorno e benvenuto a Bellisima’s_ ,” Feliciano chirped. He rounded the corner to go and seat the customer but stopped in his tracks when he met eyes with Ludwig. “Oh, Ludwig! I’m surprised you’re here! W-were we supposed to meet today?”

“Uh, no,” Ludwig answered. He cleared his throat. “But I was hoping to see if you would be available to meet today. I also would like to apologize for my behavior last night.”

Feliciano tilted his head. “Your behavior?” he asked, perplexed.

“Yes, I rudely and abruptly left our meeting.” Ludwig clarified. His cheeks went pink with mild embarrassment. “I hope it doesn’t affect our future work together.”

Feliciano smiled. “Of course not,” he said. “Did you pay your water bill on time?”

“Pardon?”

“Y-your water bill...you said it was overdue?”

Ludwig hesitated. It was now dawning on him that he had come up with a very _lame_ excuse to leave. _My water bill is overdue?? I pay all of my bills ahead of time. That’s not a good excuse_ at all _, Ludwig_. “Oh, um, yes. I made the payment. Just in time,” he lied.

“Good, good.” Feliciano looked around at the empty restaurant. “We just opened. A-and it’ll be a bit until anyone comes in for lunch. Do you want to talk now?”

Before Ludwig could say anything, the door chime rang again and came in a rushed Antonio. He looked as if he had just rolled out of bed; his hair was a mess and shirt wrinkly. “Hey, Feli; is Lovi around?” he asked.

Feliciano glanced down to see that Antonio was holding onto a piece of clothing. “Yeah, he's in the back. I think?”

Antonio plopped into a chair and let out a sigh. “Okay, I'll wait here, then. I ran over here. It's not that far but,”--He shrugged-- “I just woke up. Pretend I'm not here.”

Ludwig and Feliciano looked at each other, partially confused, but sat down at the table across from Antonio. “First things first, we’ll need to finish cleaning the place,” Ludwig began. “And put in a new floor; especially on the stage.”

Feliciano smiled. “Great minds think alike, huh?”

Ludwig returned a smile. “That, and I heard how creaky that thing was while you were dancing.”

“Right; then we should plan our first night. Our grand opening! I say, we have loud music and lots of men dancing in their underwear.” Feliciano paused. “We're still making this a gay bar, right?”

“Yes,” Ludwig said. “What about a drag show? I think that would attract a lot of people to the grand opening.”

“Yes!! That would be _perfect_!”

Antonio leaned forward in his seat, inserting himself in the conversation. “I dunno if it'll help, but I know a drag queen. They took a break, but I'm sure they'd be interested in helping out.”

“Heeeey! Good thinking, Toni!” Feliciano cheered.

“If you could have them contact us, that would be great. I think we should also conduct some interviews with others as well.”

The two of them continued their conversation, and at some point, Lovino came out from the kitchen with a pile of napkins to fold. In the corner of his eye, Feliciano watched as Antonio stood up and approached Lovino.

“Lovi,” he said tenderly.

“Don't call me that,” Lovino hissed.

“You didn't mind it last ni--”

“What do you want?”

Antonio held up the fabric he had been holding. “You left your undershirt in my room--”

“That's not mine,” Lovino snapped. He looked away to hide his beet red face. “Go home, Toni.”

“I tried this on to see if it _was_ mine, but it's too small. It's definitely yours.”

“IT'S NOT MINE!”

The restaurant fell silent as Antonio stood still in shock, not quite knowing how to respond. He looked down at the nightshirt and back at Lovino. “Lovi, come on,” he said gently. “There’s no shame in leaving an undershirt at someone’s place.”

Lovino snatched the shirt from Antonio and scowled at him. “Would you stop _talking_?!” he hissed.

“I’m sorry, Lovi, did I do something wrong?” Antonio asked, saddened.

Lovino spun Antonio around and pushed him out of the door. “You’re here too early for work! Did you think you’d make extra money by coming in this early?!”

“No, Lovino, I--”

“Go home and go back to bed!!!”

When the door slammed shut, Lovino huffed and turned back around to make his way to the kitchen. Feliciano gave his brother a knowing smirk.

“When did that happ--”

“SHUT UP!” Lovino shouted as he marched past his brother. “It’s none of your fucking business!”

The swivel doors to the kitchen slammed against the walls and Feliciano flinched at the sound. He sighed. “Sorry, he must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” he muttered.

“No worries,” Ludwig replied. “We’re all a little...grumpy in the morning.” He paused. “You have a piece of paper?”

“Yeah, sure,” Feliciano said. He pulled out a small notepad he used for taking orders and slid it to Ludwig. He then watched as Ludwig quickly wrote on it (how did he keep his handwriting so _neat_?)

“I think we should try to schedule interviews for drag queens. That’s how it’s usually done, right?” Ludwig asked.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Feliciano replied.

“Well, it’ll be how we’ll do it. We have to be quick in refurbishing the place and getting it up and running so we can start making some money. We’ll advertise the interviews and renovate the place.” Ludwig paused and looked up. “What times work best for you?”

“Oh, I can take some time off anytime,” Feliciano said, leaning back. “Just let me know ahead of time.”

“Doesn’t that interfere with the business of the restaurant?” Ludwig asked.

Before Feliciano could answer, there was a sudden loud clanging sound from the kitchen as if all of the pots and pans were falling down. It was followed by a loud, angry scream from Lovino.

“I think Lovi has a pretty good handle on things.”

Ludwig chuckled. “Alright.” He thought about his discussion with Francis earlier and decided to give “going with the flow” a try. “Perhaps we should have dinner again. I...really enjoyed last night’s company.”

Feliciano’s eyes lit up in excitement. “I’d love to!” he exclaimed. “How do you feel about Indian food? There’s a new place in town I heard about, and I’ve never had Indian food before.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Ludwig answered. He honestly would feel perfectly fine eating at **_Bellisima’s_ ** for dinner, but he knew that would be _strange_. “I don’t think I’ve ever had Indian food before either.”

“It’ll be a journey for the both of us!”

Ludwig smiled. “Sounds good. Does...tomorrow night work for you?”

“It will now!” Feliciano turned around. “Lovi! I’m taking tomorrow night off!”

“WHAT?!?!”

“Look at that, he’s okay with it,” Feliciano grinned. “Unfortunately, I should probably go help him with whatever mess he created in the kitchen. See you...tomorrow?”

Ludwig nodded as he slid out of the booth to stand up. “See you tomorrow.”

As Ludwig started his way for the door, Feliciano gently pulled him back. “Um, could I ask you something? Is this...a date? Or…”

“Sure,” Ludwig said without hesitation.

“ _Perfetto!!_ See you tomorrow, Ludwig!”

While Ludwig left the restaurant, Feliciano grabbed some cleaning supplies to spray down the table where he had been sitting. Lovino barged out of the kitchen and smacked the back of his brother’s head.

“Since when do you think you can take time off willy nilly?!” he hissed.

“I dunno; around the same time you thought you could get away with _not_ telling me you and Antonio are fucking each other.”

Silence.

Lovino’s face had turned bright red once again, and he clenched his fists. “I hate you _so much_.”

_What do I wear in this situation?_ Ludwig thought to himself as he was staring at two different outfits he had picked for himself. One was a blue dress shirt, paired with a black tie and black dress pants. The other was the closest outfit he owned that resembled a tuxedo, which seemed _way_ overdressed for something like a casual date.

Wait, was it a casual date? Or was it a very formal date?

Ludwig _really_ didn’t want to have to call his brother again. Gilbert would _try_ not to laugh, but eventually, wouldn’t be able to contain himself. He _could_ talk to Francis, but it wasn’t like the two of them were close friends or anything. Francis just happened to be in the right spot at the right time when Ludwig was in a crisis.

Glancing at the time, Ludwig groaned. If he didn’t make a decision soon, he wouldn’t make it to the restaurant until it was 7:00 exactly, rather than the ten minutes ahead of time as he preferred. _Fine, I’ll call Gilbert_. He thought as he began making the call to his brother.

Gilbert answered the phone in record time. “Having another emotional crisis, are we?”

“Could you be polite just _once_ in your life?” Ludwig asked.

“Sorry. This is Gilbert Beilschmidt, Ludwig Beilschmidt’s crisis emergency resource, speaking. How may I help you?”

“That’s even worse!!”

Gilbert snickered on the other line. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Do you want to hang up and call again so I can answer properly?”

Ludwig groaned. “No, that won’t be necessary. I just need to ask you a question.” There was a bit of silence, indicating that Gilbert was waiting for Ludwig to continue. “Alright, promise me you won’t be _weird_.”

“What kind of promise is that? You know I can’t keep that!”

“Feliciano and I are going on a date tonight--”

“YES, FINALLY!! OH MY GOD!!”

“And I don’t know what to wear. You’ve been on dates before, right? What did you wear?”

“Heh, well, my first date was at the ice cream shop with Brenda Schauer. You remember her?”

“You were thirteen and she was fourteen. You were excited because she was older than you, even though she was only older than you by a month. You also thought she had a nice butt.” Ludwig paused. “ _Get to the point_.”

“She also had a cute smile, _thank you_. Well, that’s not a good example because I just wore what I normally wore. Maybe that’s why she never went out with me again?”

Ludwig took a deep breath to gather patience. “Gilbert, _please_.”

“Anyways, you should probably wear something nice.”

“Dammit, Gilbert. Don’t you think I already know that!!!”

“Then why’d you ask?”

Ludwig wanted to throw his phone against the wall. Why was his brother such a smart ass? “ _Bist du bescheuert?!_ ”

“I dunno, probably.” Gilbert laughed. “Alright, I’ll stop. You already have two outfits picked out, don’t you? Pick the more casual one.”

Ludwig stared at the two outfits that were lying on his bed. “How do you know for sure?” he asked.

“Because the tuxedo is _way_ over the top, Luddy,” He snorted. “I mean, _komm schon_.”

“It is way over the top,” Ludwig agreed. “Thank you, Gilbert. For _finally_ cooperating.”

“You gave me something else to do instead of listening to the same four songs on the radio,” Gilbert mused. “Best of luck on your date tonight, Luddy.”

“Where are you going? You don’t have work.” Ludwig asked, confused.

“Oh, Roddy and Erzsi invited me over for dinner tonight. And for some more, _you know_.” Gilbert proceeded to make loud, obnoxious sexual noises, which made Ludwig take the phone away from his ear and waited until he heard the phone go silent again.

He put the phone back on his ear and sighed. “Just be...safe. Whatever that means in your context.”

“Okay, I know you think I’m stupid but you seriously think I wouldn’t use a condom?!”

“No...that’s not what I meant...just….you know what I mean! Goodbye, Gilbert.”

Ludwig hung up the phone and tossed it on his bed. Admiring the casual outfit he had picked out earlier, he quickly got dressed and put his shoes on. _Looks like I’ll be ten minutes early after all._

 

Being on time was something that was _not_ in Feliciano’s DNA coding.

Around 5:00, he decided that he was going to go and take a shower. Since it was his night off, he took his time leisurely. Turned out, boiling hot water feels _wonderful_ on the skin and Feliciano accidentally took an hour-long shower. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t realize it until he stepped into his room, wrapped up in a towel. At first, he was looking through the drawers to decide what he was going to wear and happened to glance at the digital clock on top of the dresser.

It was 6:20, somehow.

“ _Che palle?!_ ” Feliciano hissed to himself, taking on his brother’s characteristics. Soon, he began grabbing random dress shirts and tossing on them on the bed for consideration. “ _Che cazzo_ , how did I manage this??? _Che cazzo_ , _che cazzo_ …”

By the time he had his outfit together, it was 6:47. It would take him those thirteen minutes to get to the restaurant. _At least_.

Feliciano left the house around 6:50 and practically sprinted across town. There was a slight drizzle, which was mildly annoying; the humidity would turn Feliciano’s slightly wavy hair into a curly mess.

Not only would he be late for the date, but he would look silly.

_Should’ve put gel in my hair_ . He thought to himself as he furiously pressed the pedestrian light multiple times in hopes that he would get the chance to cross the street. _Finally_ , the traffic light changed and Feliciano weaved in and out of the group of people that were also trying their best to cross the street in a timely manner.

It was now 7:07, and Feliciano was almost to the restaurant. He could see Ludwig standing by the door, staring at his phone as he patiently waited. Feliciano quickened his pace and started to wave a bit, despite the fact that Ludwig wasn’t looking.

“Ludwig!” Feliciano called out.

Ludwig looked up from his phone and smiled gently. “Ah, Feli, you’re here,” he said. He began walking towards Feliciano. “I was getting somewhat concerned that something happened or you had changed your mind or--”

“No, I would never change my mind!” Feliciano replied. “I’m just really bad with t--”

Before he could finish, a car went zooming past them, hitting a large puddle of water. The splash had all landed on Feliciano, soaking through his clothes completely. Somehow, Ludwig had only gotten a bit of water on his shoes and the bottoms of his pant legs.

Feliciano spit out some water that had gotten in his mouth before he spoke. “Timing. I’m really bad...with timing.”

The two of them stood still for a moment, as if they weren’t blocking foot traffic on the sidewalk, and started laughing at the incident.

“Every time,” Ludwig chuckled.

“Something happens!” Feliciano added.

“It never fails.” Ludwig shook his head and pointed over his shoulder. “Come on; no one should stay in clothes that have been soaked by street water. My car is just around the corner.”

As Ludwig started to walk away, Feliciano gently grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Wait, where’re you going? Don’t you want to get dinner?” he asked, pouting.

“You could catch a cold sitting around in wet clothes,” Ludwig then pointed to a sign in the restaurant window. “They also deliver, so, we could just have dinner at my place?” He paused. “Only if you’re okay with that, however.”

Feliciano grinned from ear to ear. “I’m _definitely_ okay with that.”

 

Ludwig’s apartment was clean, organized and warm. Stripped down to his underwear and now walking around in one of Ludwig’s sweatshirts that came down to his knees, Feliciano was unbelievably happy. His clothes were now in the washing machine and dinner had arrived to the apartment in a reasonable time.

Initially, they had both started only eating what they had individually ordered. But Ludwig, being the secret picky eater that he was, began eyeing the food Feliciano had ordered and asked if he could try it instead. Soon they had swapped meals completely and the food was gone. Their discussion bounced from various topics and landed on talking about their childhood.

“Your parents,” Feliciano asked as he settled into a new sitting position on the couch. He tugged at the bottom of the sweatshirt to make sure his underwear was covered up. “What do they do?”

“My father’s an engineer,” Ludwig answered. He had started to slouch in his seat. “And my mother’s a school teacher.”

“They’re still together?”

“Yes; they make it work, despite their arguing.” He paused. “And your parents? Do they work at the restaurant as well?”

“Huh?” Feliciano had to think for a moment; it had been _so long_ since he’d thought about his parents. “Oh, Lovi and I were mostly raised by our _Nonno_.”

Ludwig frowned. “Your parents aren’t around?”

“Well, it’s kind of a weird story,” Feliciano muttered, hesitant about going into detail. “We kind of...don’t really know who our parents are? I mean, of course we’ve seen pictures of them but...something happened when Lovi and I were too young to remember anything and _Nonno_ raised us ever since.”

“And he never told you?” Ludwig asked.

“Never; no matter how many times we asked him, he’d never tell.” Feliciano started to play with the strings of the hooded sweatshirt. “But it’s all okay; I had the best childhood anyway. I’ve become an expert in annoying my brother, which never gets old.”

Ludwig laughed. “So _that’s_ why you get along with Gilbert.”

“Gilbert’s annoying? He doesn’t seem like it.”

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Ludwig groaned. “He told me all kinds of bullshit when we were kids. I spent three years of my life being terrified of monsters ‘hiding in the shadows’ at night.”

“What?! There’re monsters in the shadows?”

Ludwig chuckled. “No, not really. But he told me that when we go to sleep at night, monsters come out of shadows and watch you sleep. And if you’re mean to your big brother, they’ll _eat_ you.”

“Ahh!!! That’s so scary!!!!”

Ludwig sighed. “I was _really_ young, though. By the time I was seven, I figured out all of his made up stories. I also figured out when he was planning on pranking me; I’d be sure they’d backfire on him because he’s an _idiot_.”

Feliciano laughed. “Well, I’ve never done that to Lovino. If I ever pulled a prank on him, he’d _kill_ me. Besides, he has such a temper that it takes the fun out of riling him up.”

“Yeah, why is he like that?”

“ _No_ idea. He was just born like that, I guess.”

They both laughed and soon the room quickly went silent and all that could be heard were the churning noises from the washing machine. It became awkward, so Feliciano scooted closer to Ludwig and smiled. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Ludwig answered.

Feliciano didn’t have a question. In fact, all he wanted to do was to tell Ludwig how he felt about him. And that was easily done by a simple kiss. Well, a _semi_ passionate kiss.

Feliciano could feel his cheeks growing warm as he pulled away and he fought his usual grin. “Sorry, I-I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time now.”

He watched Ludwig stare off into the distance with an expression of confusion on his face. “Why did you do that?” he asked.

“Because...I like you?” Feliciano answered. _Did he not like it?_ He thought.

“Why?” Ludwig then asked, still puzzled.

Feliciano froze. “Why...do I like you?”

“Yes, why do you like me?” Ludwig still couldn’t get his head around the situation. He knew that Feliciano could get any person he wanted. “I’m not the most interesting person around, you know.”

Feliciano shrugged. “I just like you. Should everyone have a reason to like someone?”

“Logically speaking, yes.”

“Is there a reason why the sky is blue, then?”

“It has to do with the light spectrum and--”

“No, I mean, why does it _specifically_ have to be the color blue? There’s no reason for it, right? It could be red or pink or whatever.”

Ludwig furrowed his brow. “I think it has to do with the light spec--”

“ _Or_ , it’s just blue because it feels like it,” Feliciano concluded.

“Then why is it pink and purple or orange during sunrise or sunset?” Ludwig asked.

“Because it feels like it.”

Ludwig laughed. “I get your point, I guess,” he said while chuckling. “There doesn’t have to be a reason for anything.”

Feliciano laughed as well. “See? And there’s no reason for this, too.” He leaned in and kissed Ludwig once again, this time adding more passion and intensity. He then kissed both of Ludwig’s cheeks and grinned. “Wow, your face is like, really, really red. Are you okay?”

“Y-yes,” Ludwig stuttered, looking away. “Do you have to keep kissing me?”

“Hm,” Feliciano thought for a second. “I suppose there’s no _reason_ for me to keep kissing you...” He paused and kissed Ludwig for a third time. “But I suppose there’s no _reason_ for me to _stop_ kissing you either!” He giggled. “Your face is even more red! That can’t be healthy, so I’ll leave you alo--”

As Feliciano was about to stand up from the couch, Ludwig held onto Feliciano’s hand and gently pulled him back down to sit. “You...you don’t have to leave,” he mumbled.

“Oh,” Feliciano giggled again. “I’m confused, do you want me to keep kissing you or not?”

Ludwig gave a small smile. “You said it yourself; there’s no reason for you to stop.”

Without hesitation, Feliciano sat himself in Ludwig’s lap, straddling him, and continued to kiss Ludwig. As moments went by, hands became more and more curious as they roamed across each other’s bodies. At some point, the sweatshirt Feliciano had borrowed, and then Ludwig’s dress shirt and undershirt ended up on the floor. Hips began to grind against each other, soft moans escaped their lips.

Out of breath, Feliciano pulled away from the kiss for a moment and laughed. Ludwig’s once slick back hair was now a mess, pieces of hair sticking up towards the ceiling. He cradled Ludwig’s jaw, kissed him quickly and pressed his forehead against his. With a sly grin, Feliciano asked in the softest whisper:

“Are we going to fuck or not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wink wonk. 
> 
> Feliciano is a persistent little guy, isn't he? And after eleven chapters, it's finally paid off!!! I wonder what's gonna happen next week? 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is supportive of this story, it really, really means a lot. I had like, a million different routes planned out for this story, and most of the time when I'm writing I don't know which route is actually going to take place. So I guess I'm being harsh on myself. I hope I can continue to make you all laugh with this silly story! 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment or a critique; Ellie and I read through the comments and do our best to reply to all of them! Thank you for your support! 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia)


	12. Goofballs

For the first time ever in his life, Ludwig hit the snooze button. 

He was lying on his back while Feliciano was sound asleep with his head resting on Ludwig’s chest. With any movement, Ludwig was afraid of waking Feliciano up. It wasn’t like it was in the sense that Ludwig  _ feared  _ waking up his sleeping lover, but more that he wanted to cherish the moment. He soon drifted off back to sleep, only for it to be ruined by the alarm clock ringing again. 

With another smack, the clock was quiet once again. However, this time Feliciano stirred and rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?” he asked. 

Ludwig glanced at the alarm clock. “6:10.” 

Feliciano groaned. “It’s so early,” he whined. 

Ludwig pulled the blanket further over Feliciano’s shoulders and rested his hand on the small of Feli’s back. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’m usually up at this time.” 

“Why?” 

Ludwig pondered for a moment. Why  _ did _ he wake up so early? “I’m not really sure,” he said, hesitant. “You can get a lot of things done if you wake up early in the morning.” 

Feliciano smiled. “Same goes for late at night.” He raised his head up to face Ludwig. “Don’t let me stop you from doing your regular routine, though.” He yawned and put his head back down. “I don’t have anywhere to be until 10.” 

The alarm clock went off for the third time and Ludwig grabbed the cord and yanked it out of the wall. “A friend told me to go with the flow,” he stated. “All this time I think I’ve been afraid to not be in control,”

“You weren’t so afraid last night,” Feliciano commented. 

“Because I’m trying to relax,” Ludwig concluded. “So, I think I’ll sleep in a little longer.” 

“Good,” Feliciano glanced up at the headboard that was above them. “Um, what are you going to do about your bed, by the way?” 

Ludwig groaned; he had forgotten that the bed frame had broken from their antics and the mattress was currently resting on the floor. “I’ll figure it out when I get there,” he answered. “I hope.” 

“I can help you pick one out?” Feliciano offered. “Or at least help pay for it.” 

“No worries, it was a cheap piece of shit anyways.” Ludwig sat up, still holding onto Feliciano so he could still rest a bit. “How about this, you keep resting while I make some breakfast.” 

Feliciano quickly sat up with excitement; he was the man who was  _ always  _ motivated by food. “I can help! I love cooking! How do you feel about omelets? I make them at brunch  _ all  _ the time, and just recently I’ve gotten pretty good at making them!” 

“Sure; you can teach me. I have no idea how to make an omelet.” 

Feliciano gave a cheesy smile. “Yay!!” He climbed out of bed and scrambled to the washing machine and dryer to grab his clothes from last night. When he returned, he held his still damp clothes. “I think we got so busy we forget to switch them over to the dryer!” He laughed. 

Ludwig laughed as well. “ _ Scheiße _ .” 

 

“Have you ever considered playing the piano with your toes?” 

Roderich, who had been practicing a particular run in a new piece, stopped suddenly, hitting a bad chord. He turned to Gilbert, who had been leaning against the piano for some time now, watching him. 

“Why would I do that?” Roderich replied. “Not to mention how  _ disgusting  _ that would be.” 

“It’d give you another special quality in your career,” Gilbert clarified. “A new technique. Aren’t modern composers always looking for a new dumb way to play an instrument?” 

“ _ Dumb _ ? No. New and different? Yes.” 

“Playing with your toes is new and different, invent it!” 

Erzsébet was surprised at how well Roderich and Gilbert had hit it off. In fact, she was relieved that they were no longer bickering and picking on each other over trivial things. Gilbert seemed to calm down in his obnoxious behavior (maybe by 2%, though) and Roderich seemed to have loosened up a bit. Not to mention, Erzsébet felt that she had someone who could translate the musical language Roderich constantly used so that she could understand and vice versa. 

Gilbert was  _ kind of _ a saving grace for Roderich and Erzsébet’s relationship. 

“Please put your shoe back on; your feet smell rancid,” Roderich stated. 

Gilbert was hopping around on one foot, trying to take his sock off. “ _ Nee _ , I’m gonna show you what to do. You’re going to be famous for ages with this new technique!” 

“Get your stinky foot away from me!!” 

Erzsébet snorted; she was trying not to laugh as she watched them argue. 

“Just let me show you!” 

“You are  _ not  _ putting your nasty, stinky, disgusting foot on my piano!!!” 

“I showered this morning, it’s fine!” 

“If you showered this morning why does it smell so bad?!!” 

“Excuse me,” Erzsébet interrupted, laughing. “I hate to bother the two of you, but I was wondering if any of you wanted to join me as I run some errands?” 

Roderich looked to Gilbert. “Take him,  _ please _ .” 

“How will you know about my awesome new piano technique if I leave?” Gilbert asked. He was still balancing on one foot and was wobbly, occasionally catching himself from falling by holding onto the piano. 

“I think I’ll manage.” 

Gilbert put his foot down and sighed. “Alright, suit yourself.” He glanced at Erzsébet. “Give me a sec while I put my shoe back on.” As he was trying to put his sock back on, he was beginning to hop all over the room in order to keep his balance. 

“Why don’t you just sit down to do it?” Erzsébet asked. 

“Because that’s too easy!” Gilbert fell over, knocking over a stack of piano scores. He looked behind him at the mess and then to the tall bookshelves up against the wall. “Um, why do you have all of these books on the floor and empty bookshelves?” 

“I’ve been meaning to rearrange the room,” Roderich excused. “I just haven’t found the time.” 

Erzsébet knew that was a lie. She had offered to reorganize Roderich’s music room for months now, and he always said that he was going to get to it eventually. But that was the problem; if it didn’t actively interest Roderich, it wasn’t going to get done. 

Gilbert began to pick up the books, study the covers and sort them. He seemed to have completely forgotten about putting on his shoe as he continued to pick up scores and toss them into specific piles. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Roderich asked. 

“Organizing your shit,” Gilbert answered. “I figured you weren’t going to do it.” 

“I was!” 

Gilbert looked over his shoulder. “Sure.” 

“It’ll take you hours, Gil,” Erzsébet chimed in. “We can do some organizing it spurts.” 

“Alright,” Gilbert tossed the rest of the books he was holding on the floor. “I already have it figured it out; we’ll do it alphabetically, but by time period.”

“That seems excessive,” Roderich stated. 

“You’ll thank me later.” Gilbert shoved his foot into his shoe, squishing the heel portion of the shoe by accident and attempted to wiggle around to fix it. Giving up halfway through, he turned to Erzsébet and grinned. “Ready?”

Erzsébet laughed. “Ready. We’ll be back, Roderich. If you need anything while we’re out, text me, okay?” 

“Will do,  _ liebling _ .” 

Gilbert and Erzsébet walked out of the house, jokingly argued who was going to drive (Gilbert won) and soon were off to the store. In the department store, they went their separate ways but it only lasted a few minutes. Gilbert returned to find Erzsébet standing in the hair care aisle, bored, and started picking up every bottle of conditioner just to be obnoxious. 

“You know, if you are looking for something specific about your hair, you can always ask.” Erzsébet glanced over her shoulder and smirked. “You have some nasty split ends; do you want to try this one? It smells good.” She plucked a bottle off of the shelf and tossed it to him. 

Gilbert opened the bottle a sniffed it, making a face. “Ew; it smells like coconut,” he said. He tossed the bottle back and Erzsébet caught it, and gently placed it back on the shelf. “Is there one that doesn’t smell like coconut?” he added. 

Erzsébet hesitated, looking around again. She picked up another bottle and smelled it. “This one smells like oranges?”

Gilbert swiped it. “Hell yeah.” He grinned and placed the bottle in the small basket Erzsébet was carrying. “Hey, after this, you wanna go look in the toy section?” 

Erzsébet raised an eyebrow. “The... _ toy  _ section? Why?” 

“They have a giant basket filled with all those chickens,” Gilbert answered with a grin. 

“Yeah?” Erzsébet smirked. 

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we jumped in it?” 

Erzsébet laughed and shook her head. “We’re not jumping into a crate of rubber chickens just to set them off.” 

“Why not?” Gilbert crossed his arms. “Roderich’s not here to poo-poo anything.” 

“How old are you?” 

“Like, twenty-eight? What? Is that too old for dumb antics?” 

“Just a little.” 

They stood in silence for a couple of minutes, Erzsébet still staring at the hundreds of bottles of conditioner in front of her. She tapped the strap of her purse, thinking. She turned to Gilbert and smiled.

“Alright, where is it?” 

The two of them, like giddy children, ran across the store to the toy section. They stopped in the center, staring at the huge crate filled with thousands of rubber chickens that if you squeezed them, they would squeak. The sound would be deafening, Gilbert and Erzsébet knew this, but it didn’t seem to stop them. 

“Should I get a running start?” Gilbert asked. 

Erzsébet nodded. “Oh, totally.” 

“Or do you think I should jump from that shelf up there?” Gilbert pointed to the tall shelf that towered over the crate. 

“I think you should jump from there.” Erzsébet laughed. 

“So...both?” 

Erzsébet looked around. “Wait, where’s our escape route?” 

“Are we  _ both  _ jumping?” 

“No, this is all you.” Erzsébet rolled her eyes. “But we have to make sure we have a way to get out of here in case a worker yells at us.” 

Gilbert scowled. “You’re not going to bail on me, are you?” 

“No,  _ of course  _ not. I’m recording the whole thing.” Erzsébet searched through her purse for her phone. “I just don’t want to be the one banned from the store.” 

By the time Erzsébet looked up from her purse, Gilbert had already climbed up the shelf and was trying to balance himself so he wouldn’t fall. “Make sure to get my good side, Erzsi!” he shouted.

As Erzsébet took a few steps back, a small family walked past her, giving Gilbert funny looks. Gilbert waved to them, making up some bullshit lie that he was a verified worker and he had to restock (despite the top shelf being full). When there was no one around, Erzsébet gave Gilbert a thumbs up, his cue to make the jump. 

And so he did. 

Gilbert landed in the crate right in the center and the sound of the screaming chickens filled the entire store. He scrambled to climb out of the crate, and laughing hysterically, Gilbert and Erzsébet ran from the scene of the crime. They ran into another aisle in the toy section and peered around the corner to see if any workers had seen them. 

“You know, they have security cameras, right?” Erzsébet mentioned. 

Gilbert looked at her with a smirk. “Scared we’ll get kicked out?” 

“Not as scared as you,” Erzsébet replied, mirroring Gilbert’s smirk. 

“Who says I’m scared?”

“You’re sweating.” 

Gilbert snorted and started walking away. “Because I climbed a shelf and jumped off of it.” 

Erzsébet followed him and laughed. “No, I know when you regret something, and you  _ definitely  _ regret doing that.” 

“Do not.” 

“Do too.” 

The childish and playful arguing continued as they walked around the store back to where they were supposed to be picking up items. Soon, they walked past the small furniture section of the store and Gilbert saw a familiar face. Silently, he walked away from Erzsébet and ran up in an attempt to surprise his brother. 

“Luddy!!” Gilbert hollered. He punched his brother’s shoulder. “Fancy meeting you here!” 

Ludwig turned around and groaned. “Gilbert, could you stop being so loud for  _ once _ ?” 

“Me? Quiet?  _ Never _ !” 

“I take it you were involved in that loud noise not too long ago,” Ludwig added. 

“That was actually Erzsébet,” Gilbert lied. 

Erzsébet had finally come around and shook her head. “It was not.” She gave Gilbert a teasing punch. “It was all  _ his  _ idea.” 

“You didn’t tell me  _ not  _ to. You actually encouraged me.” 

Typically, Ludwig would be shaking his head and reminding his older brother that he is an  _ adult _ and should behave as such. But he was partially stunned to see Erzsébet with Gilbert; were they suddenly close? After hanging out only a  _ couple  _ of times? 

It was weird. 

Ludwig was about to scold his brother when he was promptly interrupted by Feliciano who had been looking around the store. 

“Luddy, there’s a good bed frame over here,” Feliciano mentioned. He gently tugged on Ludwig’s arm to lead him in the direction. “I jumped on it several times and it seems pretty sturdy!!” He paused for a second, seeing Gilbert and Erzsébet standing beside him and Ludwig. “Oh! Hey Gilbert and Erzsébet! What are you guys doing here?” 

Gilbert smirked; he was intrigued. “I could ask both of you the same thing,” he replied, smugly. 

“We’re just running some errands,” Erzsébet chimed in. She leaned into Gilbert briefly and nudged his elbow. “And acting like children while we’re at it.” 

“Sounds fun!” Feliciano exclaimed. “Is Roderich here too? He could take a lesson or two from both of you.” 

Erzsébet laughed. “He is a bit stuck in his ways. I think he’s loosening up a little, though.” She paused and tilted her head. “What  _ are  _ you two doing here? I didn’t even know you two were friends.”

Ludwig’s face turned slightly red. “Um, well, we’re working together to revamp that old gentleman’s club. So we’re...uh...we’re looking for some...uh…”

“Bed frames. We’re looking at bed frames,” Feliciano interjected helpfully. 

“Bed frames? For a club??” Erzsébet repeated. 

Gilbert nearly fell on the floor from laughing; he  _ knew  _ what was  _ really  _ going on. 

“Um...well...uh…” Ludwig stammered. 

“Didn’t you guys have dinner last night?” Gilbert asked. 

“Uh--”

“We did! We tried that new Indian restaurant! Have you ever had it?” Feliciano chimed in, carrying on the conversation casually. 

“So let me get this; you had dinner and then hung out at Luddy’s apartment?” 

Feliciano shrugged. “Yeah?” 

Gilbert patted Ludwig’s shoulder and smirked. He didn’t say anything, despite laughing, as he walked away. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked over his shoulder. “C’mon, Erzsi; I think I want to jump in that crate full of chickens again.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! 
> 
> I must apologize for the delay. I had two recitals to prepare for back to back and wasn't in the spirits to write anything. But now the recitals are done, so hopefully, this story's schedule will be back on track! 
> 
> Anyways, Feli and Ludwig did the thing! THEY DID THE THING! Also, I'm afraid that Erzsi and Roderich's romantic relationship is starting to fade away since Gilbert hanging around. What's gonna happen???? :O 
> 
> Again, I apologize for the delay. It's been a busy couple of weeks. 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia)


	13. Fishy Interviews

It was time to interview the drag queens.

He and Feliciano were sure to set up chairs in a setting that would be similar to an office; the rooms in the back still needed to be renovated and cleaned properly. Around 5:00, Ludwig opened the doors to let the first interviewee in. 

The first drag queen, Izzy Wannabe, was  _ interesting  _ to say the least. She was wearing a wig that hardly had three hairs, her makeup was smeared all over her face and her “dress” was basically a bed sheet wrapped around her body. Feliciano, as kind and patient as he was, was willing to give her a chance. Ludwig, on the other hand, quickly dismissed her after ten questions. 

The second drag queen, Monica Mulah, was at least put together in her outfit and personality. But she was  _ boring _ . She spoke in a monotone and much too long, causing Feliciano to nearly fall asleep and fall out of his chair. She had no distinguishable talents that made her stand out from the crowd; she was average. Ludwig made a mental note that she could be hired if there was  _ no one  _ else. 

The third and fourth queens, Aquafina Evian Dasani and Diana Bee Maluva, were just as boring. Several more queens were interviewed, and none of them seemed to stand out. Even after seeing them perform and dance, Ludwig wasn't impressed. Some were too mediocre, while others were just plain  _ weird _ . 

Ludwig concluded that he just didn’t have enough understanding of drag culture. 

“This last person is late,” Ludwig muttered. 

Feliciano glanced at his timesheet. “Who? Mirage Voilà? I like the name.” 

“We can’t hire someone because we like their name.” 

“Why not? It’s clever and cute!” 

Ludwig chuckled. “That's not how it really works, Feli.” 

Just then, the front door swung open and in came this supposed Mirage Voilà. She quickly ran towards them, as fast as anyone could in that tight dress she was wearing, and sat down in the chair. She let out a sigh and pushed back her hair behind her ears. 

“My apologies; my prior engagement ran late, despite me telling them I needed to leave early.”

Ludwig studied her; something seemed  _ familiar _ about her. “Do I know you?” he asked cautiously.

Mirage smirked. “I dunno, do you?” she replied with a wink. 

Feliciano leaned forward with a wide smile across his face. “Wow! Look at you!” He was absolutely taken by her beauty; all of the previous queens who had come in had been pretty as well. But Mirage? Mirage put all of their makeup and padding skills to shame. “You’re so beautiful!” 

Mirage giggled. “Aw, thank you! I try my best to look fishy!” 

“Fish...fishy?” Ludwig repeated, confused. 

“Yes, fishy! You know, look like a woman?”

Ludwig glanced at Feliciano and made a face. “What does looking feminine have to do with fish?” 

Mirage gave Feliciano a knowing glance and smirked. “Oh, he’s adorable, isn’t he?” 

“Very much so,” Feliciano agreed. “So, Mirage, how often do you perform currently?” 

“When I can; I am almost finishing my degree, so I hope to be able to perform more often once I'm finished.” 

“That's good to hear; we most likely wouldn't be open right away due to renovations,” Ludwig stated. “How long have you been performing?” 

“Since I was around nineteen, maybe? Perhaps twenty. I was in New York at the time.” 

“So it’s been awhile! Wonderful!!” Feliciano cheered. “Would you like to perform for us?” 

“Of course!!” Mirage stood up from her seat and smoothed out her dress. “I’m feeling  _ Bad Romance _ ; please tell me you have that song?” 

“What song?” Ludwig asked. 

“Of course we do!” Feliciano stood up as well and hurried over to the stereo. “Just give me a second to find it…” 

Mirage stepped onto the remodelled stage and stretched. “Take your time, dear. Just give me a cue once you’ve found it.” 

She then turned her back to them and put a hand on her hip. Ludwig could hear Feliciano talking to himself as he was searching through his music library on his phone. His eyes lit up when he found it.

“Are you ready, Mirage?” he called. 

“Always!” 

“Alrighty! Five, six, seven, eight!” 

With that, Feliciano started playing the song and he quickly hurried back to his seat next to Ludwig as Mirage began dancing. “I have a feeling she might be the one!” he whispered, excited. 

“What gives you that idea?” Ludwig asked gently. 

“Sure, all of the other queens that came in here today were decent performers, but Mirage has charisma and personality! Couldn’t you feel it when she walked in the door?” 

Ludwig paused. “She was late though…” he commented. He was still in his stickler mindset. 

“Oh, but who cares about  _ that _ ? When you’re a performer, you have to be able to bring everyone’s attention to you when you step in the room. I totally get that from Mirage. She’s not apologetic for her presence; she’s totally confident in herself and what she does.” 

Ludwig turned his attention back to the stage, watching Mirage for a minute. Feliciano definitely had a point; Mirage carried a quality that the others did not have, and that was charisma. She commanded the room and screamed “Look at me!” even when she wasn’t saying anything. And since Ludwig only wanted the best for the new business and wanted to people to have a reason to keep coming to the club, Mirage Volià was the queen they needed to be in residency. 

“I guess I see what you mean,” Ludwig muttered. “Why do I get the feeling that I  _ know  _ her, though?” 

“Maybe you do,” Feliciano replied. “Or maybe she just has one of those faces that looks like someone else’s.” 

“No, that’s not it. There’s something familiar about her…” 

It was hard to believe that now, at the second chorus of the song, Mirage was still full of energy. Most of the other queens earlier seemed to use all of their energy in the first verse and first chorus of the song, but not Mirage. Ludwig was impressed, to say the least. 

At some point, Mirage had spun around and tore off her dress, revealing a sparklier dress underneath. The dress was somehow tighter than the last. She strutted across the stage, making sure you  _ saw  _ her new outfit. 

In the bridge of the song, Mirage had slowly started to do a split, reaching upwards towards the ceiling. She then swung her legs around from underneath her, sitting on them for a brief second before flipping backwards and onto her feet. Feliciano, who had been trying not to dance and sing along, let out a cheer and had finally given in to singing along. 

Just as the song finished, Mirage had taken a seat at the edge of the stage, legs crossed, and smirked. She was acting cocky and smug, but then again, she was allowed to; she gave a wonderful performance. 

Feliciano jumped out of his seat with his hands over his head. “You’re hired!!”

“Wha--?” Ludwig tried to interrupt, but it was a little bit too late. Mirage and Feliciano were already screaming and jumping around in excitement. “We didn’t even talk about it, Feli!” 

Feliciano stopped in his tracks and gave a cheesy grin. “I know, but, were you really considering the other queens that came through?” 

“Of course not, they were terrible, but we still have to consider options and follow protocol and--” 

“If you already know something, why draw out the process?” Feliciano asked, tilting his head. 

“Yeah, and I thought you were trying to loosen up and be less stuffy,” Mirage added. 

“I am, but we still need to follow ru--excuse me, how do you know that?!” Ludwig demanded.

Mirage hesitated and grinned. “You still haven’t figured it out, have you?” She giggled. “Are there forms I need to fill out?” she asked Feliciano. 

“Yes, of course!” Feliciano grabbed a small stack of papers off of the desk and handed them to Mirage. “You’ll just need to sign our contract. It says that you’ll be our drag queen of the house and you’ll be an independent contractor. We just ask that you at least book two gigs with us a month. I’m sure you’ll do more than that, but we want to give you the opportunity to perform at other clubs when they arise.” 

“Aw, how thoughtful! I’m not sure how often I’ll be performing outside of here. The job I’m hoping to get might be a handful at times. I want a creative outlet and to be a part of something fun!” Mirage said. “And pay?” 

“For each performance, we’ll give you £250. Plus tips you get from the audience.” Feliciano answered. 

“Perfect! Do you have a pen?” 

And with that, Mirage Voilà signed the papers and was officially the drag queen for the new club. “By the way, have you two come up with a name for this place yet? I would like to start spreading the word of this place to my friends so they’ll come and check it out when you open.” 

“No, we haven’t discussed the name yet.” Ludwig answered. He was  _ terrible  _ at coming up with names for anything. He hated when he had to write an essay in school and had to come up with a title for it. Or when he and his friends had been imagining some weird, made up story as kids and he was supposed to make up a character. 

Basically, Ludwig had always left the creative ideas to someone else, which usually ended up being Gilbert. 

“For some reason, I really like the name Atomic-a,” Feliciano said. He looked to Ludwig with a smile. “What do you think?” 

“Don’t you mean Atomic?” Ludwig replied. 

Feliciano thought for a second. “Isn’t that what I said?” 

“You said Atomica.” 

“No, no, I definitely said….what you said.” 

Having spent most of his life in London, Feliciano’s Italian accent was very, very faint. His accent was in a weird limbo; it wasn’t like the typical London accent but it also wasn’t a typical Italian accent. In fact, his accent sounded more American than English, but every now and again, the Italian accent would come out. It only expressed itself in words with “r’s” or whenever he was really excited. And sometimes, the accent would express itself when Feliciano was least expecting it, catching him completely off guard. 

Ludwig found it quite charming and cute. He smiled. “What did I say?” 

“Uh,” Feliciano hesitated. His cheeks were turning red; for what seemed like the first time, it was Ludwig that was making Feliciano blush instead of the other way around. “Atomic-a,”  he finished. 

Ludwig chuckled and teased him, “You said Atomica again.” 

“Gaah!! What is it?”

“Atomic.” 

“Okay, I  _ definitely  _ said that though.” Feliciano said, laughing at himself. “See, watch: Atomic-a.” This time, he realized it and tried correcting himself over and over again until giving up. “Well, to be fair, it  _ sounds  _ better that way.” 

Ludwig nodded. “I agree; it does sound better as Atomica.” 

“Aw, are you guys done being cute?” Mirage interrupted. She gently handed the forms to Ludwig and made her way to the exit. “I want to thank you both for the opportunity to work with you! And I hate to leave, but I have a dissertation to work on! We’ll be in touch,  _ ouais _ ?” 

Feliciano waved. “Yes, we’ll be in touch! Thank you for coming and we look forward to working with you!” 

The door closed behind the drag queen and Ludwig was still trying not to laugh at Feliciano’s silly mistake. Feliciano started laughing too and began jokingly poking Ludwig’s arm. “Hey, I don’t make fun of  _ your  _ goofy accent!” he pouted.

“Because I don’t have one,” Ludwig claimed. 

“Oh? You don’t?” Feliciano smirked. 

“Give me an example, then.” 

“Whenever a word has a ‘oooo’ sound, you emphasize it.” 

Ludwig shook his head but was still smiling; he knew Feliciano was right. “No I don’t.” 

“Yes you do! Both you and Gilbert do it! Say ‘proof’!” 

“Pr _ ü _ f…” 

“ _ Proooooof _ .”

The two of them laughed together. Soon, they began to collect their belongings and turned off the lights to the building. As Ludwig was locking up, Feliciano stood behind him with his hands behind his back. 

“So, um, can I come back to your house, tonight?” he asked. 

“Sure,” Ludwig answered. “I have to run to the store to pick up some food to cook. I hope you don’t mind.” 

Feliciano waved his hand. “Of course not! Would it be okay if I helped?” 

Ludwig smiled. “I was hoping you would,” 

“ _ Perfetto _ !” Feliciano linked his arm with Ludwig’s and grinned. “I know your car is right in front of us, but I just wanted to do this.” 

“Why don’t we walk to the market just down the street and come back?” Ludwig offered. 

“I’d like that,” Feliciano concluded. As they began walking down the street, he asked: “Do you like lasagna?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously Ludwig, how do you not recognize Mirage? 
> 
> Also, Feli and Luddy are GOALS okay. 
> 
> A big thank you to Ellie (TheCrystalFalls) for editing! I know her schedule has been very busy lately. Thank you so much!!! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you have any critiques, please leave them down in the comments. Next chapter should be up sometime next week! 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia)


	14. A Much Needed Discussion

“For your own personal career, Roderich, this is a good move for you.” 

Roderich sat in the plush chair of his agent’s office, pondering the new offer he was just given. It was an amazing offer, really; it would finally launch Roderich’s career internationally, requiring him to travel from country to country to perform. It was what Roderich always wanted, but at the same time, he feared change and he feared taking risks. If he were to stay in London for the time being, it would be safe. Technically speaking, he had a stable career in the city anyways. If he took this chance, he could potentially be throwing it all away. 

“Roderich?” his agent asked. 

“Hm?” Roderich broke out of his trance and looked up. 

“What do you think? Will you take the opportunity?” 

Roderich hesitated. “Do I have to make a decision now?” 

The agent, Melissa, shook her head from side to side. “Well, preferably I’d like an answer as soon as possible. I’m not sure if I understand why you have second thoughts. What are your concerns?” 

“What if it fails? What if I fall flat on my face and become a laughing stock to the world?” he asked. 

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Why are all musicians like this? Roderich, listen: you have made yourself a well established musician here in London. Yes, most of your work has been here in England, but people are watching you. They want you to come and perform in  _ their  _ city. Don’t you think it’s time for you do what you’ve always wanted?” 

“I suppose, but--” 

“No buts!  _ Please _ , take a leap of faith! Everyone is on your side, Roderich. Trust me on this.” Melissa took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. “But, I have a feeling you still want to think it over. Can you let me know  _ at least  _ by tomorrow?” 

Roderich nodded. “Certainly.” 

They shook hands and Roderich went home, still second guessing the opportunity of a lifetime. As he stepped into the house, he could hear Erzsébet and Gilbert shouting in the living room. 

“YOU JERK!” Erzsébet screamed. 

“Why are you mad? I’m just playing the game like it’s supposed to be played…” Gilbert taunted. 

Roderich stepped into the living room to find that the two of them were playing a racing game. Gilbert, of course, was in first place while Erzsébet was struggling to catch up. It was the final lap too, and Roderich gathered that Gilbert was playing dirty to ensure he’d win. 

“You  _ know  _ what you did, Gilbert! You could’ve hit anyone else, but you purposefully targeted  _ me  _ with that shell!” Erzsébet continued. She elbowed him, hoping to knock the controller out of his hands. Even though she was annoyed, she was still smiling and laughing; she was still enjoying herself. 

Roderich waited until both of them to cross the finish line to make himself known. Erzsébet had managed to get first place, knocking Gilbert back into third. Pleased with herself, she jumped up from the couch and cheered. 

“Take that, cheater!” Out of the corner of her eye, Erzsébet saw Roderich still quietly standing by the entrance way and smiled. She stepped over Gilbert’s legs and to go and hug Roderich. She kissed his cheek. “How was your meeting with your agent?” 

“Good,” Roderich replied. “Do you mind if I talk to you for a second?” 

Erzsébet gave him a questioning look. “Is something wrong?” she asked, worried. 

“No, no,” Roderich assured her. “I just...need your opinion.” 

Still confused, Erzsébet nodded and followed Roderich out of the room and into his music room. They both sat down on the piano bench, which wasn’t comfortable for the both of them, but it wasn’t the  _ first  _ time they had sat on it together, either.

“I got an offer,” Roderich started. 

“Yeah?” 

“To travel. And perform.” 

Erzsébet’s eyes widened. “You mean like a tour?” she asked. She smiled. “That’s wonderful news, Roderich!!” She then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. When she pulled back, she frowned. “Aren’t you happy?” 

“I am,” Roderich sighed. 

“But?” 

“There are some things that...need to be addressed.” He paused. “Will you join me in my travels?” 

Erzsébet hesitated. If she went with him, it would mean leaving everything behind. It would mean her life would be put on hold to support her boyfriend. It would also mean leaving Gilbert behind. 

“Of course,” she finally answered. 

Roderich nodded. “That took you awhile. Are you sure?” 

Erzsébet bit her lip. “The house would feel awfully empty without you here.” 

“Hm...” Roderich rested his hands in his lap. “But you’d have Gilbert. The three of us made an agreement after all.” 

“The  _ three  _ of us. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” 

They were dancing around the true topic at hand. Their relationship had really been falling apart  _ before  _ Gilbert joined them just for fun. Erzsébet and Roderich were too different and were going separate ways in their lives. Gilbert briefly united them by being someone Erzsébet could rely on when it came to Roderich’s concerts and by being someone who (after he stopped playing pranks) helped Roderich with organization and fitness. 

But Gilbert also put a wedge between the two of them, whether he meant to or not. 

At some point, Roderich noticed Erzsébet falling for Gilbert. He recognized it because it happened the same way she fell for Roderich. Once Gilbert had stopped parading around like he was the greatest thing in the world and acted like himself, Erzsébet softened around him. They began hanging out with each other more and more, developing their own inside jokes, and exchanging flirtatious looks with one another. 

It stung like hell to be the one watching it all happen, but perhaps it was a blessing in disguise? 

“He can keep you company while I’m gone,” Roderich continued. “You two get along nicely.” 

Erzsébet froze; she was starting to sense where this was going. “We’ve always wanted to travel together,” she said, trying to change the topic. “Remember? We said one we got enough money, we’d go. And...and we said that on our honeymoon we’d--” 

“Erzsébet,” Roderich said in a low voice. “I know I can’t really ask you to travel the world with me. It would be unfair for me to when you already have so much here.” 

“Roderich--” 

“We’ve been drifting apart for a while now, haven’t we?” 

Erzsébet shook her head; a lump was forming in her throat as she fought back tears. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just a silly job, I don’t really like being a swim coach anyways.” 

“But would you be happy?” 

“I am happy with  _ you _ .” It was getting harder to speak as she tried to suppress her feelings. She  _ hated  _ crying, and this situation was all too complicated. She loved Roderich, but she knew she was fighting feelings for Gilbert as well. There was a part of her that said she should go with Roderich, after all, they had been together for years. But she knew it was the wrong decision. “I’ll go with you, Roderich. Really. It’ll be a new chapter for the two of us.” 

“Would you be happy? Be honest.” 

And so fell the first tear. “N-no,” she whispered. “I’m sorry,” 

Roderich put his arm around her. “I know,” he muttered. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry it has to end like this.” He paused. “I’m sure I’ll be back every now and then. The three of us could meet up and hang out then.” 

Erzsébet smiled softly. “I’m sure you’ll have lots of stories to tell. And Gilbert will make fun of every single one.” 

Roderich snorted. “That he will.” He looked around the room that was once an organized mess, now perfectly clean with all musical scores on the shelves. “But, I think we both know that he secretly respects me. He would never admit it, but I think this room is proof that actions speak louder than words. So, he’ll appreciate the stories.” 

There was a gentle knock on the side of the entrance way and Erzsébet and Roderich turned to see Gilbert awkwardly standing against it. He was tossing his cell phone up and down, catching it in one hand. “Uh, I hate to interrupt, but I uh, just wanted to let you know that I ordered some pizza. It’s… getting late,” he said, not making eye contact. He could sense the mood and didn’t want to get involved. 

Erzsébet wiped away some stray tears that had run across her cheeks and forced a smile. “Thank you, Gil,” she replied softly. “I was starting to get hungry anyway.” 

Gilbert’s expression softened as he stopped tossing his phone around and let his arm rest against his side. He looked to Erzsébet with a look of concern. “Is everything okay?” he asked. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, no,” Erzsébet quickly stood up and glanced at Roderich. “You didn’t do anything. It’s just, um, we...um...Roderich…” She stammered as she tried to find the right words. 

Roderich gently put his hand on Erzsébet’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I can explain it,” he said. He looked to Gilbert. “I got an offer to go on tour, basically. It would last for several months, and Erzsébet and I were just talking about our future.”

Gilbert grinned. “Well, congrats man! That’s a big step. And you told me you didn’t think you were famous.” He snorted. “Now look at you.” There was a pause as he cleared his throat. “So, um, your future, huh? I’m being kicked out?” 

“No,” Roderich replied quickly. “Actually, I’m kicking myself out.” 

Gilbert’s eyebrows raised. “Um. What?” 

“It’s not fair for me to ask Erzsébet to drop everything and join me on my tour. She has developed her life here, and she’s happy. Plus, I’ve... noticed how close you two have gotten.” 

“Oh...uh…” Gilbert muttered. “We’re not... _ that  _ close...are we?” 

Roderich put his hands in his pockets. “Erzsébet and I were drifting apart for a while. We tried something different, and it worked like tape for a bit. But tape only lasts so long.” 

“Am I the tape in this situation?” Gilbert asked, slightly offended. 

“I think what Roderich is trying to say, is that you helped us a little bit, Gilbert,” Erzsébet chimed in. “But, it wasn’t enough to keep Roderich and me from drifting apart. He and I...we’re total opposites. I’m sporty, he’s artsy. We’re moving in two different directions.” 

“I’m still confused; did I make the situation worse or better?” Gilbert asked apprehensively.

“Neither,” Roderich answered. 

“That doesn’t make  _ any _ sense!” 

Erzsébet stepped towards the confused German, kissed his cheek and laughed. “Try not to think about it too hard, okay?” 

“Okay, but you know I can’t  _ not  _ think too hard,” Gilbert replied, watching Erzsébet as she was walking away. 

“Yes, don’t you remember? He’s a philosophy major; he overthinks on a regular basis,” Roderich teased, somehow finding it in himself to smile. He wandered over towards Gilbert and patted his shoulder. “Thanks for ordering the pizza; how much do I owe you?” 

Gilbert looked away and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” Roderich asked, confused. He had never thought he would see the day where Gilbert was actually humble and apologetic. It was definitely a rare sight to behold. 

“For causing this, I guess?” Gilbert clarified. He felt guilty; of course in the beginning he wanted to “steal” Erzsébet, but he didn’t  _ actually  _ think he’d be successful. Most people got sick of him within a few weeks, if not days. All he and Erzsébet did was hang out, and he knew he had feelings for her but never thought she’d ever return them. 

“You didn’t cause anything, Gilbert,” Roderich assured. “This is really a matter of life. People grow apart, people grow closer.” He paused. “You and Erzsébet make a good match.” 

“You think so?” Gilbert asked. 

“You don’t already think that already? Weren’t you  _ trying  _ to get her attention anyway?” 

“I didn’t think it’d--”

“Be patient with her,” Roderich started to walk away and head up the stairs to begin packing his things. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “She doesn’t like to show emotion, just so you know. And she will want to take things slow for a while. She did with me, at least.” 

Gilbert nodded; if he and Erzsébet were going to be together, he assumed they wouldn’t jump right into it right away. That would be far too awkward. “Of course,” Gilbert agreed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He put on a smile. “I know I come across as a clown, but…” 

“You're secretly a romantic. I know,” Roderich chuckled. 

“I'll take care of her. I'm not some scummy guy, promise.” 

“I know you're not.” 

There was a pause. 

“Uh...I wish you the best, Roderich. Really. You're an outstanding musician, so you'll go far.” Gilbert added. “But since we're friends, does this mean I get front row seats to all of your concerts for free?” 

“Absolutely not.”

Gilbert laughed. “Right. But--” 

“Front row seats suck; you and Erzsébet will get tickets for the best seats in the hall. Acoustically speaking.” 

“ _ Sick _ . Then we'd  _ ya know _ afterwards, right?” 

“If the three of us are all on the same page, then yes I suppose. But, I have a feeling you and Erzsébet won't be interested in such a thing anymore.” 

Gilbert smirked. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that if I were you.”

Roderich returned the smile and continued his way up the rest of the stairs. With both Erzsébet and Roderich upstairs, Gilbert was left alone. He paced back and forth for a few moments until the doorbell rang and in came the pizzas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep breath* 
> 
> I know I lied; this was supposed to be put up last week. I got sick in the middle of last week and spent more time spacing out than writing. And the stupid thing was I had a paragraph left to finish!! I'm a terrible and inconsistent author. I'm sorry! 
> 
> There will be a couple of chapters left in this story, because my dumb brain is more excited to write the LietPol fic. This story was kind of more of a silly antics story more than anything, but I promise the LietPol story will be different. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! Feel free to leave any comments or critiques! We always read them! 
> 
> Until next time, y'all. 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia)


	15. Cena a la Casa di Vargas

“Don’t be so worried, Luddy! It’s just my grandpa and brother!” Feliciano assured as he and Ludwig stepped up the two small steps towards the front door.

They had spent the day together; first they had seen a film and later gone over to ride the London Eye (to which, Feliciano then remembered that he was _terribly_ afraid of heights and hid his face in Ludwig’s jacket until they got off), and were concluding the day with a family dinner at the Vargas home. No matter how many times Ludwig stated (lied) that he wasn’t nervous, Feliciano was so nervous he continued to assure Ludwig repeatedly he had nothing to be nervous about.

“Besides, you’ve already met Lovino! And you two get along fantastically!” Feliciano insisted, somewhat frantically stuffing his hands in his pockets in search for his keys.

“I’m not sure your brother and I get along so well…” Ludwig murmured hesitantly.

“And _Nonno_ is so excited to meet you! He’ll be happy to finally put a face to the name,” he continued with an abundance of confidence. Pulling out his keys, Feliciano unlocked the door and quickly stepped inside the small house. “We’re here!” he announced, cheerfully.

Ludwig stepped inside close behind him, immediately greeted by the delicious smells of a home-cooked meal. Closing the door behind him, he slid his jacket off and gently handed it to Feliciano to hang up.

“Ugh, Beef Boy is here.”

Ludwig turned slightly to see Lovino lying awkwardly and horizontally in the recliner across the room. It didn’t even remotely look comfortable, but it didn’t seem to phase Lovino at all. He was holding his cellphone high above his face, scrolling away on Instagram.

“Good evening, Lovino,” Ludwig greeted. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Does what hurt?” Lovino asked.

“Lying in that chair like that,” Ludwig clarified.

“Obviously not, because I’m doing it,” Lovino smirked. “I’ll tell you what hurts; my eyes, after looking at your stupid fa--” Before he could finish his insult, Lovino’s phone slipped out of his hands and landed on his face with a loud smack.

Feliciano and Ludwig both held in a laugh.

“Lovi, remember what I told you about karma? You gotta behave and bad stuff won’t happen to you,” Feliciano joked.

“Shut up, karma isn’t real,” Lovino hissed.

“And how do you know that?”

“We’re _Catholic_ , idiot.”

Feliciano rolled his eyes and turned to Ludwig. “Just ignore him; he woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“I did not!!” Lovino hollered.

“Excuse me, but why do I hear arguing when we’re supposed to be having a guest here for dinner?”

Coming around the banister was Lovino’s and Feliciano’s grandfather. Ludwig had thought he would look much older than he did; he was tall, handsome, and only had a few grey hairs sticking out from his dark, curly hair. At first, his expression was stern, annoyed that Feliciano and Lovino seemed to be arguing. But in the minute he saw Ludwig, a bright, wide smile came across his face.

“Oh my gosh, you must be Ludwig, yes?!” he exclaimed; his Italian accent was strong.

“Yes,” Ludwig answered. He offered his hand to shake but was pulled into a tight hug instead.

“Feli’s told me so much about you! I don’t know why I thought you would be smaller than you actually are, but no matter! You are here and you are already like family! Please, make yourself at home! Dinner will be ready in a few minutes!” Feliciano’s grandfather pushed Ludwig away and hurried back into the kitchen to check on the food.

Ludwig looked to Feli. “Um, I didn’t...catch his name?”

“Oh, Romulus,” Feliciano answered, looking thoroughly relieved nothing had happened. “Don’t ask; the Vargas family likes picking unusual names. You can call him Rome if you want.”

“I’ll get his permission first.”

As Ludwig took his shoes off and took a seat at the dining table, Feliciano helped his grandfather with placing the different dishes on the table. Once everything was set, Rome called Lovino over and after a quick, half-hearted prayer, they were passing the dishes around to serve themselves.

“So, Ludwig, Feli tells me that the two of you are opening a club together in a few days. What gave you the idea to do such a thing?” Rome asked.

“Well, I wanted to start a business. I initially wanted that small storefront with the apartment just above it, but someone beat me to it,” Ludwig began. “I bought the old gentleman’s club and then I didn’t have any ideas, really. Feli and I were just talking about it one day and he agreed to work with me.”

Rome nodded. “Feli eagerly agreed? Feli _never_ liked doing business related things. It was nearly like pulling teeth trying to get him to stay during his shift when he was a teenager.”

Feliciano placed the salad bowl back into the center of the table and noticed that he was nervously bouncing his leg. His nerves were getting the best of him again. _Please don’t tell any embarrassing stories about me. Please don’t tell any embarrassing stories about me._ Feliciano thought. “What are you talking about, _nonno_? I’ve always loved working in the restaurant!” Feliciano defended himself.

“Well, you were nowhere near as bad as Lovi,” Rome continued.

“ _Excuse you_ ,” Lovino hissed.

“But actually, both of you loved sneaking off before your shifts were over,” he finished, much to Feliciano’s displeasure.

Ludwig chuckled. “Are you trying to warn me that Feli is a slacker?”

Rome shook his head. “No, no. I’m just dumbfounded that my grandson was excited to start a business. It’s not like him at all.”

“Well--” Feliciano began.

“It’s true, you’re too artsy-fartsy, Feli,” Lovino commented. He had a mouthful of food in his mouth as he spoke. “And even with that, you lack discipline.”

“You’re one to talk,” Feliciano mumbled under his breath.

“What?!” Lovino snapped.

Feliciano narrowed his eyes. “I said pass the salt.”

The table went uncomfortably quiet for a moment as Lovino snatched the salt shaker and threw it towards his brother. Feliciano clumsily caught it and made a mental note not to say anything _stupid_ for the rest of the night. Lovino wasn’t in a good mood. _When was he ever?_

“So, um,” Ludwig began, looking for a way to start the conversation again. “Feli tells me the family was originally from Italy. May I ask what made you move here to London?”

“Why do you want to know?” Rome asked accusingly. He had answered so seriously, that Ludwig did not know how to react. But very quickly, Rome burst into laughter. “Did you think I was serious?” He tapped Feliciano’s shoulder. “He thought I was serious!”

Feliciano laughed awkwardly. “Oh, how funny…” he muttered.

“At the time, I was working for some company. They made me move here to work for a while. I then remembered that I _hated_ my job, so I quit and started my own business,” Rome began to explain. “Surprisingly, I was good at this restaurant thing, and I’ve never looked back since.”

Ludwig nodded, trying to process the answer. “Feli couldn’t answer me, but, maybe you can. Did Lovino and Feliciano always live with you or did they live with their par--”

Feliciano suddenly stood up from the table. “Wine! We forgot the wine!” he blurted. He laughed and jokingly smacked his forehead. “How could we forget the wine when we’re Italian?”

“There’s literally wine on the table, _idiota_ ,” Lovino stated, pointing to the large _chianti_ bottle on the table. “Do you need your eyes checked again?”

“No,” Feliciano answered, sitting back down, slightly embarrassed.

Rome chuckled. “Oh, you should have seen Feli when he was a kid _before_ he wore contacts! His glasses were so big and--”

“ _Nonno_ , please,” Feliciano begged. “No embarrassing stories, remember?”

“This isn’t embarrassing, it’s adorable!” Rome replied, determined to torment his grandson. “You could barely see his face, his glasses were so big. He practically begged for contacts every day, constantly running into people...”

“Wait, you wear contacts?” Ludwig asked. He smiled a bit. “I didn’t know that.”

“Um, well, it’s not something I like to tell everyone,” Feliciano stated anxiously. He _hated_ admitting that he had bad eyesight. “But, I’ve worn contacts for a long time. I can get away with not wearing them, though.”

Lovino snorted. “No you can’t,” he mocked. “Did you suddenly forget all of the walls you ran into? And all of the things you’ve tripped over?”

“I do that every day,” Feliciano defended himself. “And it has nothing to do with my eyes!”

“Oh really? Take out your contacts now and walk around the house! Let’s see what happens,” Lovino challenged.

“I can’t do that! That would be pointless!”

“Oh, come on. Just take them out, and walk around the house. And once you’re done, I believe you have a spare set of glasses you can show Beef Boy here.”

“Luddy doesn’t want to see my glasses!”

“Um, well, it might be kind of cute,” Ludwig muttered.

Feliciano froze and looked to his partner. “Wait, what?”

Ludwig shrugged. “Your glasses might be...kinda cute? Also, glasses aren’t that...embarrassing. A lot of people wear them.”

“Really?” Feliciano grinned and stood up. “Okay, hold on!” Feliciano quickly ran up the stairs, leaving Ludwig with his grandfather and brother. Rome, who was sitting across from Ludwig, had a proud smile on his face. What he was proud and happy for, Ludwig hadn’t a clue. Meanwhile, Lovino’s focus was to still shove food in his mouth as quickly as possible, as if he was running late for something.

Soon Feliciano returned to the table, with his huge glasses on, and looked to Ludwig. “They’re ugly, right?”

“No? They kinda suit you, actually,” Ludwig answered. “You look like one of those hipsters.”

Feliciano giggled. “Aw, you’re so sweet!”

Lovino leaned back in his chair and dropped the fork on his plate. “ _Ugh_ ! Why are you guys so fucking _good_ together. Thanks for ruining the fun, Ludwig.” He turned to his grandfather. “Can I go?”

Rome scowled. “Go where?! We’ve just gotten started with our first course!”

“I ate my salad,” Lovino grumbled, pointing to the empty salad bowl. “And my meal,” he added, pointing to his empty plate. He started to stand up from his seat. “Can I go now?”

“What could _possibly_ be more important than supporting your brother and properly meeting his boyfriend in a formal setting?” Rome demanded.

Lovino hesitated. “ _Stuff_ . Can. I. Go. _Per favore?_ ”

“No, you may not! Unless you need to go to the hospital, you’re not leaving this house.”

“Come on, I promised I’d meet… a _friend_ at 7,” Lovino hedged.

Feliciano smirked; it was time for some payback. “ _Oooh_ , is it Antonio?”

“What is actually happening right now?” Ludwig said under his breath.

Rome looked at Lovino with a questioning look. “Who’s Antonio?”

“ _No one_ ,” Lovino hissed. “Feliciano’s making up stupid shit again.”

“Hey, you know what might be a good idea, Luddy?” Feliciano asked. “We should go on a double date with Lovi and Antonio! That would be lovely, don’t you think?”

“Who’s Antonio? Are you talking about that bartender guy you two hired without my permission?” Rome repeated.

“Antonio is Lovino’s boy to--” Feliciano started.

Lovino quickly stormed off, grabbing his jacket and slipping his shoes on. “I’m leaving now! Thanks for dinner! You all suck!”

When the front door slammed shut, the house went quiet once again. The three men calmly ate in silence for a while until Ludwig felt obligated to keep the conversation going.

“So, um, was he born like that?” Ludwig asked.

Rome sighed. “ _Yes_ , ever since he and Feli moved in with me.”

Ludwig took a sip of his wine. “They didn’t always live with you?”

“No,” Rome leaned forward in his seat. “They moved in with me when...how old were you two again?” he then asked Feliciano.

“Um...I was four, I think? Lovi was five…” Feliciano answered.

“Why did they have to move in with you? If you don’t mind me asking…”

Rome’s eyes grew distant and he sighed. “My daughter married an idiot. A _dangerous_ idiot. That’s all you really need to know.”

Ludwig blinked, trying to decode what that _really_ meant. “Do you still have contact with her, at least?”

“Well,” Rome hesitated. “I used to write her letters, and send her pictures of the boys, but she stopped writing back. So, no.” He then smiled, ready to change the topic. “Tell me more about yourself, Ludwig. Got any siblings?”

“A very dumb older brother,” Ludwig answered a little too quickly.

Rome let out a loud laugh. “Feli says the same thing about his brother. Is that how the two of you bonded?”

“No, well, maybe we have a little bit. But my brother doesn’t have anger issues like Lovino. He’s just hopeless.”

“I think I prefer ‘charmingly dumb,’ don’t you think?” Feliciano chimed in, giggling a bit. “Gilbert is a really nice guy. He told me to not get discouraged because Ludwig is serious and kind of dense.”

“I’m not surprised that he was helping you, frankly. He’s always had weird ways of ‘supporting’ me,” Ludwig muttered.

“Sounds like your brother is smarter than you think,” Rome said. “Which is good! It’s always better to have family looking out for each other instead of bickering. Not that Feli and Lovi argue a lot. It’s just that Feli knows how to push Lovi over the edge to a temper tantrum.”

“What?” Feliciano asked, trying to play innocent. He was fighting a smirk. “What are you talking about? I’ve _never_ done that.”

“Oh, come on, Feli. Don’t lie,” Rome said, chucking, and Feliciano let the smirk appear. “Anyways, your older brother sounds nice, Ludwig. I’d love to meet him sometime.”

Both Feliciano and Ludwig jumped in their seats and looked at each other. “Uh, _nonno_ , don’t you think that’s a bit...I dunno...soon?” Feliciano asked. He was confused; never had his grandfather ever taking a liking to someone Feli had brought home. He was always skeptical and well, _intimidating_ around them. This time, his grandfather didn’t even   concerned by Ludwig at all.

“Hm?” Rome asked, reaching for the bottle of _chianti_.

“You just met Luddy today. Don’t you...don’t you want to get to know him more? Or...ask him all of those weird questions you always ask when I bring someone home?”

“What? Oh, _nah_ . As soon as Ludwig stepped in the front door, I said to myself ‘eh, I like this kid!’” Rome paused, looking first at Feliciano’s confused face and then to Ludwig’s. “What? Do you _want_ me to be scary?” His grin quickly went away as he made a stern face. “Is this better?”

“No,” Ludwig replied.

“I mean, kind of. It’s just so weird that you’re acting so nice. Usually, it’s like an interrogation whenever I bring someone home,” Feliciano answered.

“Huh?” Rome thought for a moment. “Oh, well, that’s because I didn’t like the other people you brought home. Most of them had no clue what they wanted in life. But Ludwig? He’s got his life in order.”

This was news to Ludwig. “I do?”

“Sure you do! You’re opening up a successful business, you live in your own apartment and you actually dress decently.”

Ludwig hesitated and tilted his head forward questioningly in a way Feliciano found irresistibly cute. “How can my business be successful if it hasn’t opened yet?”

“Trust me, after the previous club that was there, it’ll be a booming success.” He then stood up. “Do you like tiramisu?” he then asked, bouncing onto a new topic. “I think I made too much. If not, I did make some cake.”

“Tiramisu is good,” Ludwig and Feliciano said simultaneously, watching Rome step into the kitchen.

Sitting at the table in silence, Feliciano looked to Ludwig and smiled. “Well, I think you’ve passed the test,” he said cheerfully. He leaned back in his chair, finally feeling like he could relax and breathe again. “Not that I thought you wouldn’t.”

Ludwig smiled and leaned on the table. “I thought you said you weren’t nervous?”

“I wasn’t!” Feliciano lied reflexively.

“Mmhm, alright,” Ludwig muttered, unconvinced.

Feliciano could never keep the truth hidden for long. “Okay, I was. But listen, I _never_ know how my _nonno_ is going to react! Sometimes he’s chill and then sometimes he never gives the other person a break.” Feliciano admitted. He then smirked. “I guess this just means we’re meant to be!”

“I-it’s a little early for us to say that, yet,” Ludwig said, uncomfortably.

Rome stepped back in the room and began serving the dessert. “I want you two to be happy and do whatever is best for you, but I’ll tell you one thing,” he began. “When you know it’s right, you know. My late wife and I dated for only a few months before we got married.”

Feliciano couldn’t help but smile. “Are you saying what _I think_ you’re saying?”

“I’m just encouraging you two to not overthink,” Rome said, looking directly at Ludwig before he smirked and sat down. “That’s all. No rush or anything,” he concluded with a wink.

 _Is he telling us to get married already?_ Ludwig frantically thought. _It’s only been a short time…_ “I think we’ll wait, just to be safe,” he commented hastily.

“Not much of a risk taker, huh? I get it. My wife was the same way. I’ll never forget the look on her face after I proposed to her,” Rome added, thoughtfully reminiscing with a far-off look in his eyes.

“Didn’t she call you a moron, though?” Feliciano asked, knowing the story all too well. “She thought you were crazy for proposing so soon.”

Rome laughed. “That she was! She was certainly something, my Giulietta,” he remembered fondly. For a couple of more seconds, he was lost in his memories of his younger days.

“Can I ask how the two of you met?” Ludwig asked. He felt that it was only polite to ask.

“Oh! We worked together. It took me a while to convince her to go on a date with me. She was the type of woman who believed men were always up to no good, especially me,” Rome explained. “She told me once: ‘I’ve seen you flirt with every woman in this office! Why are you so persistent with me?!’ And then I said that I just had a feeling she was _the one_ , you know? Cause when you know, you know!”

“Right…” Ludwig said. _This guy really likes telling stories…_ He cut off a piece of the tiramisu onto his fork and put it in his mouth.

“We eventually went on a few dates together, had s--”

“ _Nonno_ ,” Feliciano mumbled. He wanted to spare the details from Ludwig.

“--which was absolutely amazing, by the way. The best I ever--”

“ _Nonno_!!” Feliciano hollered. “I think you’re getting a little carried away again.”

“Oh! That reminds me, you two are being _safe_ right?” Rome asked.

Ludwig quickly grabbed his napkin to cover his mouth as he spat out the tiramisu he was eating from shock. “ _E-Excuse me_?!” he stammered.

“Being _safe_. You know, using cond--” Rome continued.

Feliciano ran his hands over his face, trying to hide the redness of his cheeks. “Oh my God, _nonno_!”

“I’m sorry, I think that’s private informa--” Ludwig started. His face was starting to feel warm from embarrassment.

“And no _faking_ , okay? You two have to make sure you both are pleased. Don’t be ashamed of the noises or the faces, it’s all natural.” Rome concluded, not even being bothered by the topic.

“ _Nonno_ , _please_!!” Feliciano said, his voice muffled from his hands. He slouched in his chair, wanting to hide under the table.

“ _Che_? The bedroom is just as important as any other relationship talk. You two are a match made in heaven and I’m just making sure everything is on the right course.”

“But you don’t have to be so _direct_ about it!”

Eventually, the conversation topic changed, Ludwig and Feliciano felt their nerves disappear, soon wondering why they felt so nervous in the first place. Around 10 pm, the conversations finally dwindled down and Ludwig and Feliciano began to make their way to the front door. Before Ludwig stepped out of the house, Rome gently pulled him back and told Feliciano to go on ahead.

“Did I do something wrong, sir?” Ludwig asked, concerned.

“Sir?” Rome repeated. “Oh my goodness, _please_ , no need for formalities! You’re practically family now. Call me _nonno_!”

“Uh...how maybe...not? That’s just...um--”

“Well, don’t be afraid to change your mind!” He hit Ludwig’s back and laughed. “Anyways, I just wanted to repeat that you two are a really good match. I haven’t seen Feli this happy in, well, a while. Years, probably.”

“Um, okay…” Ludwig began. _Isn’t he always happy though? It’s in his name..._

“He and Lovi both are so sensitive, you know? Sure, both are promiscuous as hell, they probably got that trait from me. But when they’re in a serious relationship, they fall in love so hard so fast,” Rome looked away and put his hands in his pockets with a smile. “It’s been some time since Feli was in a serious relationship, but Lovi? I still think he’s recovering from his last one. I know he’s fooling around with someone now, but still. That girl really had him wrapped around her finger.” He watched as Feliciano climbed into the car, put his seatbelt on and pulled out his cellphone as he waited for Ludwig to step down from the porch. “I like seeing my grandsons happy, and you make Feliciano happy.”

“That’s good to know…” Ludwig said, starting down the steps, wondering why he was telling him all this. He was stopped again when Rome pulled him back.

“I guess I’m just asking you to be kind to Feli. Don’t break his heart, okay? ‘Cause--” he gave a mirthless chuckle “--then I _might have to hurt you_ ,” Rome said in an ice-cold tone with a grip on Ludwig’s shoulder that had him frozen to the spot.

Ludwig’s mouth had very suddenly gone dry, and he whispered, “What?!”

Rome let out a loud laugh. “Oh, I’m just kidding, Ludwig!” he stated as he stepped back in the house. He turned around to stare at Ludwig as he closed the door. “Or am I?” The door closed, leaving Ludwig standing on the steps, dumbfounded and slightly terrified. After a few seconds, the door opened and Rome peeked his head around with a large grin. “You know I’m joking, right?”

 _What the hell---?_ “Uh, I don’t know?”

“Please know that I’m joking,” Rome said with a laugh. “Welcome to the family, Ludwig!”  

As Ludwig walked over to his car, he heard the door behind him close again. He sat down in the driver’s seat and turned to Feliciano. “Your grandfather is a little strange, don’t you think?”

“Is he?” Feliciano replied. He shrugged. “I thought he was pretty normal tonight.”

“Well, it was my first time meeting him. I guess I just have to get used to him,” Ludwig said as he turned the car on. _And_ really _watch my step where Feliciano’s concerned._  

“He really liked you, though!” Feliciano added, relieved it had gone so well. “He never likes anyone I bring home. So, that’s a good thing!!” He giggled. “I was nervous for nothing!” They began to drive away, listening to soft music over the radio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) 
> 
> :) :) 
> 
> :) :) :) 
> 
> Hi! 
> 
> I know it's been a while since there's been an update. I'm not going to lie to you, I was struggling to figure out what to write. And so I stepped away for a bit. And then Easter came around, I had some gigs to play for, plus I teach Mon-Fri. in the evenings. I just found myself tired a lot and not really inspired to write. I apologize for being lazy and not writing quickly enough. I want to thank TheCrystalFalls for being so patient with me. She deserves an award for putting up with my slow writing. I'm hoping that whatever story I write/post next I won't be so irregular. 
> 
> On a more positive note, there's a stray cat in my neighborhood that I have befriended and she's the sweetest little thing. My phone is now filled with pictures of her silly faces, and my family and I are trying to figure out what is best to help her out. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Grandpa Rome literally has no filter. I mean, neither does Feli, but he's /kinda/ better at it. Feel free to leave any comments or critiques down below! We read them and do our best to reply to them! Thank you all for your support! See you when the next chapter is posted! 
> 
> -Katelyn (violinia)
> 
> Edit/P.S.: Idk how many of my readers watch Eurovision but EUROVISION IS NEXT WEEK and I'm excited. Is anyone else excited?????

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, everyone! Welcome to the first "prequel" to London is Burning! As promised, this is the GerIta and PruHun story. To give a warning, there will be some more PruHun than I initially had planned, just because of some of the antics I've come up with now. Don't worry though, there will still be plenty of GerIta!! 
> 
> As for the upload schedule of the fic, the fic will be updated on every Monday afternoons/evenings. That way, this gives me more time to write chapters and it gives TheCrystalFalls more time to edit (and less stress for the both of us!!). 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this first chapter and this fanfic as a whole! I know everyone enjoyed London is Burning so much, I hope I don't disappoint! Please, if you find any errors or have any critiques, feel free to leave a comment! I always read comments and try my best to reply to them!
> 
> -Katelyn and Ellie


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